


Don't You Remember?

by SerenaElisabet



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Car Accidents, Comedy, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-08-06 07:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 89,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenaElisabet/pseuds/SerenaElisabet
Summary: Hillary thought she had the perfect life. A successful husband who she was deeply in love with, a career she loved, and an amazing daughter. But what happens when an accident changes all of that and Hillary wakes up in the hospital with a brand new life? Billary AU based on the book 'Remember Me?' by Sophie Kinsella.





	1. Prologue

**Prologue  
Spring 1995**

Hillary Rodham Clinton sighed as she walked inside the Manhattan Brownstone that she shared with her husband of nearly twenty years, Bill Clinton and their fifteen year old daughter Chelsea. She was a family lawyer and she had just had one of her worst days ever in a long time. She had lost an important case that she had been working on for months and to top it off, it was pouring rain outside, making for a very long commute home filled with traffic and delays. She just wanted to make a big bowl of pasta, drink a cup of tea, and spend the rest of the night cuddling with her husband on the couch; maybe they could watch a movie or something. She stripped off her soaking wet raincoat and took off her boots and walked into the living room.  
Bill was sitting on the couch, bent over the blueprints for his latest project at work which he had spread out all over the coffee table. Hillary smiled to herself. Bill was probably one of the top architect’s in New York City, his work was amazing and he was an incredibly hard worker. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  
“Hey honey,” she said, kissing his neck.  
“Hi Darling,” Bill said, smiling.  
Hillary walked around to the other side of the couch and sat down beside him.  
“How was work? How did the case today go?” Bill asked, remembering that it had been a big day for his wife.  
Hillary sighed, “Not well. The father ended up getting custody. It was heartbreaking.”  
Bill frowned, “I’m so sorry, honey.”  
Hillary shrugged, “You win some, you lose some.”  
“Well, Betsy called just before you got home. She said she’s going out for drinks with the other girls from the office and was wondering if you wanted to go with them,” Bill said.  
“Yeah, I know. She invited me while I was on my way out. I’m just not in the mood and its pouring rain,” Hillary replied. “I thought maybe me and you could just relax and watch movies or something.”  
“Honey, you should go,” Bill encouraged. “It might take your mind off of things. It’s a Friday night. Chelsea’s at a sleepover. You deserve a girl’s night out.”  
“Are you sure?” Hillary asked. “I thought me and you could spend some alone time together.”  
“I’ll be fine. Honestly, I have a ton of work to catch up on. You go out with your friends. Have fun,” Bill answered.  
Hillary smiled. A night out with the girls did sound fun.  
“I better go get ready,” she said.  
***  
Hillary and her friends from work, Betsy, Dana, and Michelle had had a fun night at the bar. They had danced, ate greasy food, drank cocktails and did tequila shots. Probably too many tequila shots if Hillary was being honest with herself. She knew she was going to wake up with a hangover. It was 1 AM and trying to hail a cab in the pouring rain was proving to be futile. There hadn’t been any cabs in sight for at least ten minutes.  
Plus, Hillary was the only one of her friends even looking for a cab. Dana, who was recently divorced, had rammed her tongue down the throat of a guy she had been chatting up and they were making out in the doorway of the bar. A few feet away, Betsy and Michelle were huddled underneath Betsy’s umbrella together, loudly singing “Dancing Queen” as if they were still on the karaoke stage.  
“Hillary, come join us!” Betsy yelled.  
Hillary couldn’t help but chuckle at her best friend since childhood. “Bets, I’m too preoccupied trying to find a cab.”  
Hillary usually loved karaoke, too (well not singing it herself, but she loved to hear her friends sing it) but she wasn’t in the singing mood right now. 

Finally a taxi came into sight and Hillary stuck her arm out – but some people standing nearby flagged it down first.  
_Great_ , Hillary thought. You didn’t really need a driver’s licence living in New York City, but it was times like these that she wished she and Bill had theirs.  
“Hey, there’s a taxi! Taxiiiiiii!” Michelle drunkenly said.  
Hillary quickly turned around to hail it but again, she was too late.  
“Ugh!” Hillary exclaimed.  
“Taxi!” Betsy said.  
Hillary looked and saw the lights far off in the distance.  
“Taxi! Over here!” Hillary says, frantically waving her arms and mentally willing the cab not to turn.  
She _had_ to get this cab. She frantically started running along the pavement and waving to her friends to follow her.  
“Taxi! Tax—” and before she can stop it, she feels her high heeled clad foot sliding on the wet pavement and she can’t stop herself from falling forward, off of the curb. 

_Oh shit...the ground’s coming straight towards me_ , Hillary thinks. There’s nothing she can do so...  
_this is really, really going to hurt..._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

What the hell had happened last night? How long had she been awake? Hillary could feel her splitting headache and her parched mouth. She knew those tequila shots had been a terrible idea. She wasn’t twenty anymore.   
_I’m never drinking again. EVER_ , Hillary thought.   
Were those voices? No she had to sleep...   
***   
Hillary slowly opened her eyes. Or at least attempted to. Her eyelids felt like lead. Her head was pounding. Everything felt foggy. She squeezed her eyes tight and tried to remember what exactly had happened the night before. But all that came to her was random memories.   
Holding a newborn Chelsea for the very first time...  
Her and Bill’s wedding day...  
Eating French fries at the beach with Bill...  
Tequila...  
Oh yeah. She could remember drinking copious amounts of tequila shots with her friends at some bar. But that’s all she could remember. She couldn’t even open her eyes properly.   
She absentmindedly moved her hand to her hand and frowned when she heard the sheets rustling. Those didn’t sound like the sheets on her and Bill’s bed. She could smell antiseptic and cleaning fluid in the air and she was wearing some scratchy T-shirt nightgown thing that she didn’t recognize. Maybe she had crashed in a hotel with her friends?   
With a lot of effort, she finally opened her eyes and managed to move her head a few inches to the left.   
_What the hell?_ Hillary thought.   
She was lying in a dim room, on a metal bed. There was a panel of buttons on the bed and a vase of flowers on the nightstand. She saw an IV drip in her left hand, attached to a bag of fluid.   
What the hell had happened to her last night? She couldn’t have been _that_ drunk, could she? Her only fragment of memories is tequila. Tequila...tequila...tequila...  
Slowly a few other things start coming back to her. Her friends singing karaoke. She had eaten nachos and French fries. She was out with her friends from work.   
But she still had no idea how she had landed in the hospital. She had a splitting headache, her throat was throbbing in pain and she was dying for a glass of water.   
“Hello?” Hillary weakly called out. She figured nobody could hear her through the thick door.   
She looked at the panel of buttons attached to the bed and chose the one that looked like a person. A few minutes later, the door opened and a pleasant looking blonde nurse in light blue scrubs entered the room.   
“Hello, Hillary!” she said. “How are you feeling?”   
“Um, I’m alright, thanks. I wouldn’t mind a glass of water. My throat and head are killing me,” Hillary answered.   
“I’ll get you a painkiller,” the nurse said, while pouring a glass of water from a pitcher that was on the nightstand. “Your throat hurts because there was a tube down your throat during the surgery. Here, drink this.”   
“Thanks,” Hillary said, gulping down the water.   
_Wait, surgery?_ Hillary thought.   
“So, I’m in the hospital?” Hillary asked.   
The nurse nodded. “You don’t remember how you got here?”   
Hillary shook her head. “Things are pretty hazy, to be honest.”  
“That’s because you had quite a bit of head trauma. Do you remember anything about your accident?” The nurse asked.   
Accident...accident...it suddenly all came flooding back to her. Running for the taxi, the wet sidewalk, slipping on her high heel. But she needed surgery from that?   
“Um, yeah, kind of. I think so,” Hillary said. “What time is it? And where is my husband?”   
If she was in the hospital and hooked up to an IV, Bill couldn’t be far away she figured.   
“It’s eight o’clock at night, dear,” the nurse said.   
_Eight? I’ve been out of it for a whole day?_ Hillary thought.   
“And my husband?” Hillary asked.   
“Oh, he’s been worried sick about you! He said he had to run to his office to take care of a work emergency but that he’d be back tomorrow,” the nurse replied.  
Hillary smiled to herself. She knew Bill would have been by her side if she was in the hospital and it was as serious as it sounded.   
“I’m Heidi, by the way,” the nurse said. “You were only transferred to this room a few hours ago. We’ve already had several conversations.”  
“Really? I don’t remember,” Hillary said.   
“You were still pretty out of it,” Heidi replied, lightly chuckling. “But you seem fully coherent now. Is there anything else I can get you?”  
“I’d love a glass of orange juice if that’s possible. And do you know where my bag and belongings are?”   
“All of your personal belongings and valuables have been put away somewhere safe. I’ll go find them for you.”  
Heidi left the room and Hillary looked around in a daze. She had no clue which hospital she was in...how she got here...why she needed surgery...where Chelsea was...Had anybody told the rest of her family?   
And what about her friends? Against her will, she suddenly feels tears pooling in her eyes and slowly roll down her cheeks. All she wanted was for Bill and Chelsea to comfort her.   
“Oh dear! Is the pain that bad?” Heidi asked, re-entering the room, and carrying a plastic bag with _Hillary Rodham_ written on it in thick black marker.   
She hands me a tablet and a small cup of water, “This should help.”  
“Thank you so much,” Hillary said, gulping down the pill. “It’s not the pain though. I miss my husband and my daughter.”   
“Aww, honey,” Heidi said, reassuringly rubbing Hillary’s back. “I’m sure they’ll be here in the morning.”   
“I sure hope so,” Hillary cried, her body wracked with sobs.   
Heidi gave her a sympathetic smile and held her hand out for the cup.  
Hillary passed it back and suddenly noticed her nails.   
_What on earth?_  
Hillary had been long overdue for a manicure but she had been way too crazy busy with work to be able to go get one. But right now they looked amazing. Neat, varnished, and painted red, her signature nail color.   
She stared at them in astonishment. Had her and friends gone for late night manicures or something and she had forgotten?   
“I found your purse, by the way,” Heidi said, gesturing to the plastic bag. “I’ll just go and get you that orange juice.”   
“Thanks,” Hillary said, gratefully. She also noticed a landline telephone on the nightstand. She was definitely going to try to make a few phone calls to Bill and Betsy that night and get some of her questions answered.   
As Heidi opened the door to leave, Hillary reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a smart looking black Prada handbag, all glossy and expensive looking.   
_Oh great. This isn’t my bag. They’ve mixed up my belongings with someone else’s_ , Hillary thought.   
Hillary didn’t mind designer brands and she and Bill definitely had the money to afford them, she was just a more practical and frugal person, a product of her upbringing.   
“Excuse me, this bag isn’t mine,” Hillary called out, but Heidi was already gone.   
Hillary sighed and stared wistfully at the handbag, wondering who it belonged to. She dropped it onto the floor, flopped back against the pillows of her hospital bed, and closed her eyes. 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think? I have the next 4 chapters written so far so let me know if you want more?


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your interest and support! Since I got a bit ahead with my writing, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

Hillary woke up the next morning feeling a lot more normal and refreshed. A good night’s sleep was all she needed. Someone had left a glass of orange juice on the nightstand and Heidi was making notes on Hillary’s chart in the corner of the room.   
“Heidi?” Hillary said. Her voice felt scratchy and her throat was still bothering her a bit. “What time is it?”  
“You remember me?” Heidi asked, surprised.   
“Of course,” Hillary answered. “We talked last night.”  
“Excellent! You’re doing so much better than you were,” Heidi said. “Don’t worry; confusion is totally normal after a head injury.”  
Hillary reached her hand to her forehead and felt a gauzy bandage. She must have really banged her head on that curb, she thought.   
“Do you need another painkiller?” Heidi asked.   
“No thanks. I think I’m okay,” Hillary answered, as there was a light knock at the door and an elderly woman entered the room. She was holding a plastic shopping bag.   
Hillary was pretty sure it was her mother, Dorothy, who had moved to New York several years prior to be closer to Hillary and Chelsea following her husband’s death, but it didn’t look like her mother. It looked like her mother had aged several years. Hillary made a mental note to make her mom a doctor’s appointment to get checked out as soon as she was out of the hospital.   
“The _heating_ in this place! I’m freezing,” Dorothy said.   
Okay, it was definitely her mom.   
Hillary smiled, “Hi, mom.”  
“Hillary! Darling! You’re awake!” Dorothy exclaimed. She turned towards Heidi, “How she’s doing?”   
“She’s doing much better today. Far less confused than she was yesterday,” Heidi answered.   
“Well thank god for that! You were so incoherent yesterday. It was like talking to a crazy person,” Dorothy said.   
“Thanks, mom,” Hillary sarcastically said.   
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Dorothy replied, stroking Hillary’s hair. “I brought you some shampoo and toothpaste, figured you needed it.”  
“Thanks,” Hillary said. “Hey, mom?”   
“Yes?” Dorothy answered.   
“Where’s Bill? Have you talked to him? Heidi said he had some work emergency but I haven’t heard from him at all and it’s weird with me in the hospital and all...”  
“Bill?” Dorothy said. “Chelsea said he had to go out of town for work.”  
“Out of town?” Hillary responded, confused. She started laughing. “I just saw him two days. He should be right here in New York City with Chelsea and me.”  
Hillary was definitely sending her mom to the doctor for a checkup now.   
Dorothy frowned. “I’m gonna go get the doctor for you in a minute. You must have hit your head harder than we thought.” She checked her watch. “I’m afraid I can’t stay long as I have a doctor’s appointment of my own. But I have a card for you. From Jack and Louise.”  
“Who?” Hillary asked.   
“Jack and Louise! My neighbors from two doors down?” Dorothy answered, as if it was obvious. “Anyway, they send their love and best wishes.”  
“Mum? What are you talking about?” Hillary asked. She could feel a headache coming on and she winced in pain.  
Heidi came back into the room. “Here we are! A fresh glass of orange juice. And Dr. Carter will be here shortly to check on you.”   
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I must be off now,” Dorothy said, checking her watch again. “I’ll be back later with Chelsea and Derek. I’ll go get the doctor for you.”  
 _Derek? Who the fuck is Derek? Chelsea’s boyfriend? Does my mom have a boyfriend all of a sudden?_ Hillary thought.   
“Okay, mom,” Hillary said, managing to smile. “Can’t wait. See you later.”   
Hillary felt shaken up and confused, and she really wanted Bill but at least she would get to see Chelsea later.   
Her thoughts were interrupted when a thirtysomething doctor entered the room, accompanied by three younger people in scrubs.   
“Hello, Hillary,” he said pleasantly. “I’m Dr. Carter, I’m a neurology resident here at the hospital. This is Amber, one of our nurses, and Julia and Eric, our two medical students. How are you feeling?”  
“Pretty good,” Hillary answered. “My left hand feels a little funny though. It’s kind of numb.”   
As she lifted her hand to show him, she couldn’t help admiring her amazing manicure again.   
“Okay,” Dr. Carter said, nodding. “We’ll check it out. You might need some physical therapy for it. But first I’m going to ask you a few questions. Humor me if some of them seem blindingly obvious. Can you tell me your name?”  
“Hillary Rodham Clinton,” she answered. She noticed the doctor put a checkmark in his folder.   
“And what year were you born in?”  
“Nineteen forty-seven.”  
“Very good,” Dr. Carter said, making another checkmark. “Now, Hillary, when the other car crashed into you, you hit your head against the windshield. You came out of it very lucky and the other doctors repaired the internal bleeding in your stomach, but there was a small amount of swelling in the brain so I need to check some things.”   
“Excuse me?” Hillary asked, shocked. “You’ve mixed me up with someone else. I wasn’t involved in a car accident.”  
Dr. Carter frowned and flipped two pages back in Hillary’s chart. “It says the patient was injured in a car accident.” He looked around the room for confirmation.  
 _Why is he asking them? I’m the one it happened to_ Hillary thought.   
“Well, someone made a mistake,” Hillary said, defiantly. “I was out at a bar with my coworkers and we were running for a taxi. It was raining and I slipped on the pavement. I fell. That’s what happened.”  
Dr. Carter and Heidi exchanged confused looks.   
“It was definitely a car accident,” Heidi said. “I was down in the ER when she and the other driver came in. A drunk driver plowed into her while she was stopped at a red light.”  
“I couldn’t have been in a car crash,” Hillary replied, trying to stay calm. “I don’t even have my driver’s license, much less a car.”   
“You haven’t got a...” Dr. Carter flipped to another page. “A BMW convertible?”  
“A BMW?” Hillary said, snorting with laughter.   
“But it says here—”  
“Look,” Hillary said, trying to be as polite as possible. “I’ll tell you how much a family lawyer who usually takes on pro bono cases makes, and then you can tell me if I can afford a BMW convertible.”  
Julia, one of the medical students scribbled something down and showed it to Dr. Carter. He opened his mouth in shock and the student shrugged while gesturing to the paper.   
Hillary felt a nervous pit in her stomach start to form. Was something seriously wrong with her?   
“Is something really wrong with me?” Hillary asked, trying to contain the terror in her voice. “You can tell me.”  
“Hillary, I want to ask you something else,” Dr. Carter gently said. “Do you know what year it is?”  
“What _year_ it is?” Hillary said, in disbelief.   
“This is a standard check, Hillary. Just tell me what year you think it is,” the doctor responded, reassuringly.   
“It’s 1995,” Hillary confidently said.   
Hillary heard someone in the room take a sharp intake of breath. Nobody was speaking. The room was so quiet and still you could probably hear a pin drop.   
“Okay,” Dr. Carter finally said, pulling up a chair next to Hillary’s bed. “Hillary, today is June 13, 2000.”

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 3

“Haha, very funny,” Hillary sarcastically said. “Did Bill put you up to this? Or Betsy?”  
“I don’t know anybody named Bill or Betsy. And I’m not joking,” Dr. Carter said.  
“He’s serious,” Heidi chimed in. “We’re in the year 2000.”  
“But that’s...the _future_ ,” Hillary replied, in utter disbelief. “Did they invent time machines or something?”  
“Hillary, this is obviously shocking,” Heidi said, putting a hand on Hillary’s right shoulder. “But it’s true. It’s June 2000.”  
Hillary was more confused than ever. Yesterday it was April 1995, how could things have just jumped five years?  
“I can’t be _stupid_ ,” Hillary said, trying to hide how dazed and confused she felt. “It can’t be 2000. It’s 1995.”  
“There is no need to get upset,” Dr. Carter said. “We’ll figure this out. Why don’t you tell us the last things you remember?”  
“Okay, well,” Hillary began. “The last thing I remember is going out for drinks with my best friends from work. Friday night. We were trying to hail a cab to go home afterwards. It was raining and my high heel slipped on the wet sidewalk and I fell on the curb. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital. That was April 21st, 1995. I know the date exactly because I lost an important case in court that day that I had been working on for months.”  
“Hillary, all of that happened over five years ago. You’re remembering a different accident you had, entirely,” Heidi said softly.  
“What else do you remember?” Dr. Carter asked. “Work backwards from that night.”  
“I don’t know,” Hillary said, shrugging. “Being at work, my daughter being born, marrying my husband...everything.”  
“Is your memory foggy at all?” Heidi asked.  
“A...a bit,” Hillary reluctantly admitted.  
Julia, the medical student had briefly left the room and she had now returned holding a copy of _The New York Times_. “Should I?”  
“Good idea,” Dr. Carter said.  
“Look, Hillary,” Julia pointed to the date at the top of the newspaper. “This is today’s paper.”  
Hillary read the date. _June 13, 2000_. She flipped through the rest of the paper and uncertainly read some of that day’s headlines.  
_That’s why nothing makes sense. It’s not mom who’s confused...it’s me..._ Hillary thought.  
The proof was right there in the newspaper stories.  
“So have I been in a coma? For five years?” Hillary asked uncertainly.  
Dr. Carter shook his head. “No, that’s not it. You were admitted five days ago.”  
_What? I’ve been in the hospital for FIVE whole days?_ Hillary thought.  
“But I don’t understand!” Hillary exclaimed, pushing the newspaper aside. “Am I _crazy_? Am I hallucinating?”  
She could feel hot tears pricking her eyes.  
“No, of course not,” Dr. Carter emphatically said. “Hillary, I think you have a condition called retrograde amnesia. It’s a condition that sometimes arises following head injuries, but yours seems to be quite serious and lengthy.”  
“It’s normal to be confused after this kind of thing,” Amber, the nurse said.  
Hillary didn’t know what to think. Her mind was whirring.  
“You’ve forgotten a chunk of your life, Hillary,” Dr. Carter said. “You’ve _forgotten_. That’s all.”  
Hillary didn’t know what to think. Were they lying? Were they pulling a huge prank on her?  
Suddenly Hillary froze. Her hospital gown sleeve had fallen down and she noticed a small scar on her left shoulder. A scar she didn’t recognize and that she definitely didn’t have before. And it looked months old.  
“Hillary? Are you alright?” Dr. Carter asked.  
Hillary’s eyes which were riveted on the scar. She slowly moved her gaze down to her manicure and her shiny red nails.  
“You’re saying,” Hillary said, clearing her throat. “That I’ve lost five years of my memory?”  
“That’s what it looks like right now,” Dr. Carter said, nodding.  
“Can I see the newspaper again?” Hillary asked, hands trembling as Amber handed it to her.  
Every single page had the same dateline. .  
It really was the year 2000.  
***  
The nurses had made Hillary a nice strong cup of coffee and Hillary was grateful for it. As the doctor was talking about neurological exams and CT scans, all Hillary could do was nod along and pretend to be calm. But on the inside she was freaking out.  
When Dr. Carter got paged down to the ER for an emergency, Hillary let out a big sigh of relief. She was so overwhelmed and didn’t feel like being talked at anymore. She took a big sip of her coffee and flopped back against the pillows.  
Heidi had gone off duty and Amber had taken over. She was taking notes on Hillary’s chart. “How are you feeling?”  
“Really, really...strange,” Hillary said, laughing a little.  
“I don’t blame you,” Amber said, smiling sympathetically. “Just try to take it easy. You’ve got a lot to take in.”  
“When people get amnesia,” Hillary began, “Do the missing memories ever come back?”  
“Most of the time,” Amber answered.  
Hillary nodded, and shut her eyes. She tried to think as hard as she could, to try to remember _something_ from the past five years but...nothing. She sighed in frustration.  
“Would you like some magazines maybe?” Amber suggested. “You can catch up on the celebrity gossip from the past five years while I go get your breakfast sorted.”  
Hillary nodded, “That would be nice, thank you.”  
Amber nodded, “Of course. And what kind of breakfast would you like? A full breakfast or continental? Or we have a fruit tray? Or all three?”  
“Um...a full breakfast please. Thank you very much,” Hillary answered. “Wait a minute? Did county hospital suddenly get a whack load of money or something?”  
“You’re not in a county hospital. You’re in the private VIP wing of Mount Sinai,” Amber cheerfully answered.  
“Private? VIP? No, no, no, I can’t afford this,” Hillary said.  
Nicole went to pour Hillary more coffee and Hillary put her arms out to stop her.  
“I’m so sorry. I can’t afford all of this,” Hillary bashfully said. “I don’t know why I’m in this room or this wing. I should have been taken to a regular hospital. Feel free to transfer me...”  
“It’s all covered by your insurance, don’t worry,” Amber reassured her.  
“Oh...right,” Hillary realized, slightly embarrassed.  
Her and Bill must have gotten a better health insurance plan sometime during the past five years. She was in her fifties now. She was a different person.  
_I’m fifty-two years old_ Hillary thought, her head swimming.  
And where the hell was Bill? But Hillary didn’t let her mind wander. She’d get answers soon enough. Her eyes wandered down to her hands, as if they would provide all the answers. She was a different person now. Someone who could afford an amazing insurance plan and someone who got fancy manicures and...  
Slowly, she dropped her gaze to the black Prada bag on the floor, right where she had left it the night before.  
The thousand dollar, designer, movie star-type bag couldn’t really be hers...could it?  
“Amber?” Hillary asked, trying to act nonchalant. “Is that bag... _mine_?”  
“I think so,” Amber said. “Let me check.”  
Amber pulled out a Louis Vuitton wallet and snapped it open. “Yep, it’s yours.”  
She pulled out a gold American Express card and handed it to Hillary. _Hillary Rodham_ was printed across it.  
“But these bags and that wallet cost thousands of dollars. I would never spend that much on a purse,” Hillary said.  
“Well, they’re yours! So relax,” Amber said.  
_Am I suddenly earning tons of money or something?_ Hillary thought. _Did Bill and I win the lottery?_  
“So I was really in a car crash? In a _BMW_?” Hillary asked, suddenly wanting to learn everything about herself and her life for the past five years.  
“Apparently,” Amber said, shrugging. “Didn’t you have a BMW in 1995, then?”  
“What? No! I don’t even have a driver’s licence!” Hillary said, laughing a little in disbelief.  
_When did I learn to drive? When did I start being able to afford luxury cars and designer handbags?_  
“Maybe look inside your purse. It might jog your memory,” Amber suggested.  
Hillary nodded, “Good idea.”  
Her hands were shaking as she reached inside the bag. The first thing she pulled out was a small black compact mirror. She immediately flipped it open.  
“Now, Hillary, don’t be alarmed. You have some cuts and scratches on your face from the accident. But they’ll heal,” Amber said.  
Hillary sighed in relief as she looked in the mirror. It was still her staring back at her, even with a huge cut just above her left eyebrow. She moved the mirror around, trying to get a good view, cringing when she saw the white bandage on her forehead. She tilted the mirror down and admired her lips which were full and pink. Wait a minute—  
_Oh my God. These are not my teeth. Have I had dental work done?_  
“Hillary? Is everything alright?” Amber checked.  
“I’d like a proper mirror please. I need to see myself,” Hillary said.  
“There’s one in the bathroom,” Amber said. “It’s probably good to get you up and moving about anyways. I’ll help you.”  
With Amber’s help, Hillary managed to get out of bed and slowly walk to the adjoining bathroom.  
“Now,” Amber said. “You have some cuts and bruises from the accident so your appearance might be a bit of a shock.”  
“I’ll be fine,” Hillary said. “Just show me.”  
Hillary took a deep breath to prepare herself as Amber swung the door shut to reveal a full-length mirror on the back of it.  
_Is that...me?_ Hillary thought.  
“I know your injuries look alarming,” Amber said, wrapping her arm around Hillary, “But they’re just surface wounds and they’ll heal in no time.”  
Hillary wasn’t even paying attention to the cuts and bruises. Or the bandage and staple on her forehead.  
“That’s not...” Hillary said, gesturing to the mirror, “That’s not what I look like.”  
She closed her eyes and pictured how she used to look. Shoulder length dark blonde hair that she usually wore with hair bands, blue eyes, black eyeliner and red lipstick that she had purchased from the drug store, the standard Hillary Rodham look.  
She opened her eyes again and saw a different woman staring back at her. Her hair was messy from lying in bed but Hillary could see that it was a bright, unfamiliar shade of light blonde, all wavy and flowy, sleek and shiny, and several inches longer than it used to be. Her toenails were perfectly manicured and polished red to match her fingernails. She was tan, toned, and a few pounds thinner than she used to be.  
“What’s different?” Amber asked.  
“Everything!” Hillary exclaimed. “My hair, my legs, my teeth...”  
_My teeth must have cost a fucking fortune_ , Hillary thought.  
“Well you look amazing!” Amber complimented.  
“I’ve lost weight...my face is different...” Hillary inspected her face. Her eyebrows were neatly groomed but her lips seemed fuller for some reason.  
_Have I had work done? Have I turned into someone who has work done?_ Hillary thought, in horror.  
Hillary yanked the bathroom door open and marched back over to the hospital bed.  
“Hey, take it easy!” Amber scolded. “I know this must be a shock but maybe take things one step at a time?”  
Hillary ignored her and began yanking items out of the Prada purse. Designer sunglasses, Lancôme lipstick, Chanel eyeliner.  
“God, just _look_ at this stuff,” Hillary remarked. She still had no idea why she would suddenly be so into designer brands? How could she even afford it all?  
She found a small black notebook. She took a deep breath and opened it. Right there was her familiar handwriting staring back at her. _Hillary Rodham, 2000_ was written on the front cover.  
She quickly started flipping through it and reading the various appointments that were scribbled on every page. But everything was written in initials and abbreviations so there was nothing to gain from that. Suddenly a business card fluttered out of the notebook. Hillary picked it up—and froze. It was for the law firm she worked at, Rose and Associates, and the name was printed there in big black letters. 

**Hillary Rodham  
Senior Partner, Family Law Division**

“Hillary? You look pale,” Amber said. “Is everything alright?”  
“Look at this!” Hillary said, holding the card out to Amber. “I finally made partner! And Senior Partner at that! After nearly twenty years of working there!”  
Hands trembling, she slid the card back inside the notebook and reached inside around the bag. Maybe she had a mobile phone? There had to be someone she could call who would have answers. Bill, Chelsea, her mother, her friends...  
Instead of a phone, her hands found another piece of paper. She pulled it out. It was a note that was written to her on embossed stationary. The initials _D. J._ were at the top in black cursive. She read the note. 

_Hey Honey_ ,  
_I have to work late tonight but I thought these flowers might cheer you up! I love you so much, babe, and I’ll call you sometime tonight when I can. Enjoy the flowers._  
_Love,_  
_D_

D? Who the fuck was D? And why had he sent her flowers sometime in the past and said he loved her? What about Bill? Was she having an affair? She couldn’t be...  
She reached around inside the purse again, and felt her fingers wrap around something cold and plastic. Ah, a phone! It was smaller than other mobile phones she had had in the past but it was pretty easy to use and Hillary quickly figured it out. If anybody was going to have answers, it was going to be her best friend Betsy. She dialed her friend’s home phone number that she had memorized off by heart and it went to the answering machine.  
“Hey, Bets,” Hillary said. “It’s me, Hillary! This is going to sound crazy but I’ve been in a car accident and I’m in the hospital and I...I really need to speak to you. I have a few questions and it’s important. Can you give me a call when you get a chance? Thanks! Bye!”  
“You can’t use those in here,” Amber said after Hillary had hung up. “You’re welcome to use the landline though. I’ll get it set up for you.”  
“No problem, thanks,” Hillary said.  
Another nurse walked into the room carrying two plastic bags. “I’ve got your clothes here.”  
She placed them down on the bed. Hillary reached into the first bag and pulled out a pair of dark wash jeans.  
“These cannot be my jeans. The waist is too high and look how _skinny_ they are,” Hillary rambled.  
“And here’s your jewellery,” the other nurse added, handing Hillary a smaller transparent plastic bag. “We had to take it off for the surgery and the scans.”  
Still stunned by the jeans, Hillary took the bag containing the jewelry. Hopefully the various rings and the bracelet that Bill had given her over the years as anniversary presents, and that she always wore, would be in there. She pulled out a gold bracelet and a matching gold necklace, and an expensive looking gold watch. They were nice...but they weren’t the usual jewelry that Hillary wore on an everyday basis.  
“These are...nice,” Hillary said, but she was disappointed and confused. She reached back inside the bag and felt two ring shaped objects. She pulled the first one out.  
“Oh my God,” one of the nurses whispered as the other one took a sharp intake of breath.  
Hillary was holding the gaudiest, shiniest, biggest princess-cut diamond engagement ring she had ever seen in her entire life.  
“That can’t possibly be my engagement ring. My husband couldn’t afford a ring when he proposed to me when we were younger...” Hillary rambled. They really must have come into some serious cash somehow over the past five years.  
“There’s more,” Amber said, “Hold out your hand, Hillary.”  
Amber tipped the bag forward and dumped the contents into the palm of Hillary’s hand. Hillary was holding a plain gold wedding band. And it _was_ nice but it wasn’t her original wedding ring.  
“This isn’t my wedding ring,” Hillary said.  
“Are you sure? Maybe your husband got you a new one along with the engagement ring?” Amber suggested.  
“Look, it’s engraved,” the other nurse pointed out.  
Hillary read the engraving on the wedding ring.  
_H.R. and D.J., May 16, 1998_  
“Aww, your two year wedding anniversary just passed,” Amber pointed out.  
Hillary’s stomach sunk. There were those D.J initials again.  
“I’m H.R, Hillary Rodham. But I have no idea who D.J is. My husband’s initials are W.J.C. Oh my God...”  
Then suddenly it hit her. She felt like she was about to throw up. The nervous pit in her stomach grew.  
“I think I need to splash some cold water on my face,” she said to the nurses.  
She walked into the bathroom as quickly as she was able to, given her injuries and stared at the unfamiliar reflection staring back at her in the mirror.  
She was _remarried_.  
Her and Bill were _divorced_. 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you guys are gonna hate me for the next few chapters haha but it becomes Billary again eventually in its own way. Promise!


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your comments and reviews on this story! And here's the next chapter :)

For the past hour, Hillary had been wracking her brain trying to figure out who D.J was. Which men did she know with those initials? And she kept staring at the wedding ring in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that she and Bill were divorced and she had married someone else. It didn’t seem real or possible. She felt like crying.   
She had ransacked the Prada bag again and flipped through the notebook again, looking for more clues as to who D.J was.   
_You’d think I’d remember my own husband’s name_ Hillary thought.   
When the door opened, Hillary froze, half-expecting it to be him. But it was only her mother.   
“Mom!” Hillary said, relieved to see a familiar face.   
“Hi, darling. How are you doing? I would have been here earlier but traffic in this city is absolutely insane—”  
“Mom, I have amnesia,” Hillary said, cutting her mother off. “I’ve lost my memory, a huge chunk of my life. The past five years. I’m...freaking out.”  
“Oh yes, the nurse mentioned that,” Dorothy said, as if it was completely normal.   
“This is _insane_!” Hillary exclaimed. I’ve lost five years of my life. I don’t know anything about myself in 2000. I look completely different; I have all of these expensive things. I found these rings that apparently belong to me and, mom, I just have to know something. Did Bill and I...Are Bill and I divorced?”   
“Of course you’re divorced from Bill, dear,” Dorothy answered. “You got divorced four years ago.”   
Hillary tried to keep from crying as her worst fear was confirmed. “And...I’m remarried?”   
“Of course you got remarried!” Dorothy said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Derek will be here soon. I told you that earlier today.”  
“Derek’s my new husband? I thought Derek was your boyfriend,” Hillary said.   
“My boyfriend?!?!” Dorothy exclaimed with raised eyebrows. “Oh, heaven’s no, Hillary Diane. You really did get a pretty good whack to the head in that accident.”   
_Derek. My husband, Derek_ Hillary thought, rolling it around in her brain.   
It meant nothing to her. Derek was a stranger.   
“He had a work emergency last night and an important meeting this morning. But otherwise, he’s been worried sick and he’s been by your bedside day and night for the past five days,” Dorothy said.  
Hillary nodded, trying to digest this information.   
“Did Bill and I remain friends?” Hillary asked.   
“You stayed friendly and civil for Chelsea’s sake but I wouldn’t say you’re exactly friends,” Dorothy answered.   
Hillary nodded as tears started rolling down her cheeks.   
“Oh, sweetie. Don’t cry,” Dorothy said, gently rubbing Hillary’s back. “I know this must be hard to take in.”  
Hillary nodded, “It is. Very.”   
She took a sip from the now cold cup of coffee that a nurse had given her earlier, and tried to compose her thoughts.   
“So...what’s Derek like?” Hillary asked.   
“He’s very nice,” Dorothy said.   
Hillary nodded, “And what does he do?”   
“He’s a real-estate developer. He specializes in hotels and condos. He’s rather good at it, to be honest," Dorothy replied.  
 _I’m married to a real-estate developer named Derek_ Hillary thought and once again, let it roll around in her brain for a bit. _How? Why?_  
“Do we live in my Brownstone?” Hillary asked.   
“Your Brownstone?” Dorothy said, trying not laugh. “Sweetheart, you and Bill sold the Brownstone when you got divorced. Bill bought his own place in Brooklyn. You and Derek have an apartment together.”   
“I _sold_ it?” Hillary said. “But we had only just bought it and moved in!”   
Hillary sadly sighed. She had loved that house.   
“Now, have you eaten?” Dorothy asked, changing the subject. “I haven’t had time for lunch yet so I’ll go get us something. A proper meal. You’re too skinny, Hillary Diane. You need to be eating properly. None of this no-carbs business. A sandwich won’t kill you.”  
 _No carbs? Is that how I lost so much weight?_ Hillary thought, glancing down at her unfamiliar toned arms and legs.   
“My appearance has changed a lot, hasn’t it?” Hillary remarked.   
Dorothy shrugged, “I guess you look a little different. But you’re beautiful, no matter what.”  
Hillary smiled, “Thanks, mom.”   
“I won’t be too long,” Dorothy said, putting her purse over her shoulder. “And Chelsea should be on her way up shortly.”  
“Chelsea’s here?” Hillary asked, feeling her spirits lift immensely. She couldn’t wait to get a hug from her daughter.   
Dorothy nodded, “She just stopped to get a coffee downstairs.”  
Hillary nodded and smiled. At least that was something to look forward to.   
***  
Hillary was absentmindedly flipping through the TV channels while she waited for Chelsea. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand and slowly sipped it while she tried to get her thoughts in order. Her brain was still swimming from all the new information she was learning.   
There was suddenly a light knocking at the door.   
“Come in,” Hillary called out.   
“Mom!” Chelsea said. She rushed over to her mom and hugged her.   
“Chelsea?” Hillary said, tentatively hugging her back. She didn’t recognize this unfamiliar looking girl. This girl was taller, had longer hair, and didn't have braces.   
“Yeah, mom, it’s me,” Chelsea said, pulling away from the hug and looking at her mother.   
“Oh, of course,” Hillary replied, realizing that of course, Chelsea was five years older now. Hillary quickly did the math in her head and realized that Chelsea would be twenty years old now.   
“I’m really sorry,” Hillary apologized. “I don’t know if anybody talked to you yet but I’ve been having some problems with my memory.”  
“Yeah, one of the nurses told me. That’s crazy,” Chelsea said.  
Hillary nodded, “It definitely is.”  
“So you don’t remember...anything?” Chelsea asked.   
“Not anything for the past five years,” Hillary answered.   
“Wow,” Chelsea said, not knowing what else to say.   
“Yeah...” Hillary said, uncertainly. “But, anyways, I want to hear about you and what you’ve been up to.”   
“Well I’m twenty now. I’m going into my third year at Stanford in the fall but we’re on summer break now,” Chelsea replied.   
“Stanford! That’s amazing, Chels,” Hillary complimented, incredibly proud of her daughter.  
Chelsea nodded and smiled, “I’ve been taking summer classes at Columbia University and doing an internship at the mayor’s office to stay busy.”  
“Wow, Chelsea. That’s fantastic,” Hillary said, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “You look beautiful, by the way. As always.”  
“Thanks, mom,” Chelsea replied.   
“So, do you live with me and...Derek?” Hillary asked, not being able to bring herself to say “My Husband.”  
“Um, I’ve been renting my own apartment for the summer. It’s just...easier,” Chelsea answered, vaguely.   
“Oh, okay,” Hillary said a little awkwardly. “Is Derek a good stepfather?”  
Chelsea nodded and shrugged, “He’s fine, I guess. He’s a really nice guy but me and him aren’t that close.”   
Hillary just nodded, not knowing what to say in response to that. “So, your dad and I...we divorced.”  
“Yeah,” Chelsea said, quietly.   
“I’m so sorry, Chels,” Hillary quietly responded.   
“It’s fine. It happens. It’s been four years. I’m over it,” Chelsea replied. “Dad sends his love by the way. He had to go to Los Angeles for work but he was sorry to hear about your accident and he hopes you feel better soon.”   
Hillary nodded. “Do you know why we got divorced, by any chance? Did I talk to you about it?”  
“Um, I think you and dad need that have that conversation,” Chelsea awkwardly answered.  
By Chelsea’s face, Hillary _thought_ she knew the answer to her question but she wasn’t going to push Chelsea any further.   
“Have you eaten lunch yet? I’m kind of hungry,” Chelsea said.   
“Grandma went to go get me something. We can share if you want,” Hillary offered.  
Chelsea nodded.   
“So, what was my wedding to Derek like?” Hillary asked, changing the subject. “Was it nice? Were you a bridesmaid?”   
“Oh, yeah. It was beautiful,” Chelsea answered. “I was your maid of honor of course. And yeah, it was a really lovely wedding.”  
Hillary nodded and smiled. “And what is Derek like? Your Grandma said he was nice. What does he...look like?”  
“Oh My God, you have no idea what he even looks like!” Chelsea realized.  
Hillary laughed, “Nope.”  
“Well he’s my stepdad so this is kind of weird, but I think you’ll be pleased,” Chelsea answered with a cheeky smile. “And he is really nice.”  
Hillary nodded. “That’s good. And how did we meet?”  
“It’s actually a cute story,” Chelsea answered, taking a swig of her coffee. “You guys got stuck in an elevator together for 45 minutes and you really hit it off. You got to know each other while you waited for help to arrive.”   
“We were stuck in an elevator together?” Hillary said, laughing.  
Chelsea chuckled, “Yep. Crazy right? It was about six months after you and dad separated. Fate intervened, I guess.”  
“Indeed,” Hillary said. “And I saw a business card in my purse. I finally made partner at the law firm.”  
“Yep!” Chelsea said. “That was a fun night when you got that promotion. It was so cool. We all went out to celebrate and you bought us all champagne. You really don’t remember _any_ of this?”  
“Nope, nothing!” Hillary answered.   
“Wow,” Chelsea said.  
The door opened and Dorothy walked in carrying a tray of food and a bottle of water.   
“Here we go,” Dorothy said. “I’ve brought you a turkey sandwich and some French fries. Oh, and a brownie! And guess what? Derek’s here!”  
“ _Here?_ ” Hillary exclaimed, panicking. “Here in the hospital?”  
Dorothy nodded. “He’s on his way up right now to see you. I told him to give you a few minutes.”  
“Mom, I can’t do this right now,” Hillary said, feeling nervous. “I don’t feel up to meeting him yet. Why don’t I see him tomorrow? When I’m feeling more like myself.”  
“Hillary Diane, you can’t turn your husband away. He’s rushed here from work, all the way across town, especially to see you,” Dorothy admonished.   
“But I don’t know him!” Hillary insisted. “What do I say? Or do?”  
“Sweetheart, he’s your _husband_ ,” Dorothy said. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”  
“Maybe it’ll trigger your memory,” Chelsea suggested, pulling a chunk off from the chocolate brownie that Dorothy had brought Hillary.   
“Hey, that’s _my_ brownie,” Hillary said.   
“Mom,” Chelsea said, laughing. “You don’t eat carbs anymore.”  
“Nice try, Chels,” Hillary said. “I would never have given up chocolate.”  
“You _never_ eat chocolate anymore. Or sugar. Period,” Chelsea said. “Right, grandma?”  
Dorothy nodded, “You didn’t even eat any of your own wedding cake, darling, because you were worried about the calories.”   
“It was mocha cake, too. Your favorite,” Chelsea said.   
_They have got to be kidding me_ Hillary thought and tried not to roll her eyes.  
She was about to tell them off and ask Chelsea for the brownie when there was a knock at the door.   
“Hello?”   
“Oh my God. Is that him? Already?” Hillary asked.   
“Hold on one second, Derek!” Dorothy called. “Let’s get you tidied up a little bit, Hillary.”  
She pulled a comb out of her purse and started yanking at Hillary’s hair.   
“Ow! Mom! Stop it!” Hillary said.   
“There we go,” Dorothy said, giving Hillary’s hair one final tug, and wiping some sweat off of Hillary's forehead. “Ready?”  
“Should I let him in?” Chelsea asked.   
“Please, no...Just one more second,” Hillary said.  
She could feel a pit of dread at the bottom of her stomach. She wasn’t ready for this yet.   
“Mom, please. It’s too soon,” Hillary firmly insisted. “Tell him to come back tomorrow. Or even in a few weeks, maybe.”  
“Stop being silly, Hillary Diane. He’s your _husband_ and he’s been worried sick about you. We’ve kept him waiting long enough already, poor guy!” Dorothy said.   
Unconsciously, Hillary gripped the bed sheets tight in anticipation.   
“It’s going to be okay, mom,” Chelsea reassured her. "He's a great guy."   
“What if I hate him? What if we have no chemistry? I mean am I supposed to go back and _live_ with him when I’m out of the hospital?” Hillary nervously said.   
“Just play it by ear, mom,” Chelsea said.   
“Really, Hillary. You’re worrying for nothing,” Dorothy said. “He’s _very_ nice.”   
Dorothy finally opened the door to Hillary’s room. “Derek, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. Come in, please.”  
There was a long pause and Hillary felt her mouth open in shock and her jaw drop. Standing there in the middle of the room, carrying a huge bouquet of roses, was one of the most gorgeous men Hillary had ever seen in her entire life. 

To Be Continued...


	6. Chapter 5

“H-h-Hi,” Hillary stammered out.   
The man standing in front of her had left her speechless. How in the world had she landed him? He looked like he had stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. He had short dirty blonde hair that was slicked back, broad shoulders, muscular arms, a square jaw with just a hint of stubble, and the straightest, whitest teeth Hillary had ever seen on anybody in her entire life. He was probably a few years younger than Hillary, in his mid-to-late forties. Hillary noticed that he was wearing an expensive looking designer suit.   
“Hi,” Derek said back, in a deep and husky voice.   
“Hi,” Hillary said again.   
“Oh, sweetheart.” Derek rushed over to the side of the bed, the bouquet of roses rustling. “You look a lot better than you did a few days ago.”  
“I feel okay...and thank you for the flowers,” Hillary said, taking the bouquet from him. She noticed they were pink roses, her favorite.   
“So...you’re Derek?” Hillary asked, just wanting to make sure.  
Hillary noticed the surprised look on his face but he managed to smile. “Yep, that’s me. I’m Derek. You still don’t remember me?”  
“Not really. Not at all,” Hillary admitted.   
“I told you,” Dorothy piped in, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Derek. But I’m sure she’ll remember soon.”  
“I’m _trying_ ,” Hillary insisted. “You think I want to be like this?”  
“It’s alright, sweetheart. We’ll take it slowly,” Derek said, sitting down on Hillary’s bedside and taking her hand. “Maybe we can trigger some memories?”   
“Um, yes. Alright,” Hillary replied, giving Derek another once over with her eyes.   
“Hillary, it’s me. Your husband, Derek. Our two year wedding anniversary just passed.”  
Hillary nodded, too mesmerized by Derek’s good looks to reply.   
“Everything okay?” Derek checked, noticing Hillary’s wandering gaze. “Honey, if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I know this must be overwhelming.”  
“No, no, everything’s fine!” Hillary insisted. “Sorry. Carry on.”  
“We met about four and a half years ago. We got stuck in an elevator together. You had come to Bill’s office to get some papers for the divorce signed—”   
“Wait, Bill’s office?” Hillary interrupted, confused.   
“Yes, sweetheart. Bill and Derek work together sometimes. Did I forget to mention that?” Dorothy said.   
“Yes!” Hillary said, and turned to Derek. “You work with Bill?”  
“Yes, sometimes,” Derek answered. “He’s one of my architects. I’m a real estate developer.”  
Hillary nodded, feeling dazed. She had no idea how her ex-husband and current husband were able to get along and work together. She knew Bill had a jealous side.   
“So, yes, anyways,” Derek said, moving on. “You needed Bill to sign some papers and I was on my way up to Bill’s firm for a meeting and we got stuck in the elevator together. We talked while we were waiting for help and we really hit it off. We were instantly attracted to each other. We started dating and we got engaged about a year into our relationship. And we got married about two years ago.”  
Hillary nodded.   
“We got married on a beautiful spring day and we had the most amazing honeymoon ever in Paris,” Derek continued.   
“Did we go to the Eiffel Tower?” Hillary asked.   
“Yes!” Derek answered, grinning. “Why do you remember something?”  
“No,” Hillary replied, sighing. “I just figured, you know, Paris, the Eiffel Tower...it was a lucky guess.”   
“Oh,” Derek said, nodding and trying to hide his disappointment. “The trip was great. We saw all the sights, visited the Louvre, we had an amazing hotel suite, we drank the best lattes every day. Do you not remember any of this?”   
“No, sorry,” Hillary apologized, frowning.   
“It’s okay, darling,” Derek reassured her.   
To Hillary’s relief, there was a knock at the door.   
“Come in!” Hillary called.  
Amber entered, carrying a clipboard. “Sorry to interrupt, I just need to check Hillary’s vitals.”   
“No problem,” Hillary said. “This is Amber, one of the nurses who’s been taking care of me. This is my mom, and my daughter, and my...husband. Derek.”  
Referring to Derek as her husband still felt strange.   
“ _Derek_ ,” Amber said, giving Hillary a cheeky grin. “ _Very_ nice to meet you, Derek.”  
“Nice to meet you as well,” Derek said, reaching out to shake Amber’s hand. “Thank you for taking such good care of my wife. I am incredibly grateful.”  
My wife, Hillary thought, as she heard him say that. Her stomach flip flopped. It sounded weird coming from somebody who wasn’t Bill.   
“My pleasure. Hillary’s awesome,” Amber said, turning to Hillary. “He’s _gorgeous_ ,” she mouthed to Hillary and grinned. Hillary couldn’t help but smile back.   
“And I’d very much like to make a donation to the hospital,” Derek said to Amber. “As a token of appreciation for how well you’ve looked after my wife.”  
“That would be wonderful!” Amber said, “I’ll put you in touch with someone who can make that happen.” She took a few notes on Hillary’s chart.   
“Everything looks good here, Hillary,” Amber said. “You’re healing well.” She noticed the untouched food sitting on the tray on Hillary’s nightstand.   
“Is that your lunch?” Amber asked.   
“Oh yes. I forgot all about it. Oops,” Hillary answered.   
“You should eat, Hillary. You need to gain your strength back. And I know you all want to spend time with Hillary but I’m going to ask that you not stay _too_ much longer. She needs to rest and take it easy,” Amber said.   
“No problem,” Derek said. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I just want my wife to get better.”  
Chelsea and Dorothy began to gather their belongings but Derek stayed put.   
“I’d like a few minutes alone with Hillary,” he said. “If that’s okay with you, Hill?”   
“Oh, sure!” Hillary said, giggling nervously.  
Chelsea and Dorothy both hugged Hillary goodbye and Dorothy gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before they left and Hillary was left alone with Derek in an awkward silence.  
“So...” Derek began.   
“So...this is weird,” Hillary said, attempting to laugh a little bit to ease the tension in the room.   
“Do the doctors think your memories will come back?” Derek asked, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.   
“They think they will. They just don’t know when,” Hillary answered.   
“So it’s a waiting game, I guess,” Derek sadly said.   
“Yeah...” Hillary quietly said.   
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Derek asked.   
“I don’t know,” Hillary answered, shrugging. “Maybe tell me more about us? About our life and our relationship?”  
“Good idea,” Derek said. “What do you want to know? Ask me anything.”  
“Well...where do we live?” Hillary asked.   
“We live on the Upper East Side. We have our own penthouse,” Derek answered. “In one of my properties.”   
_Wow! A penthouse! On the Upper East Side!_ Hillary thought.   
“And...What kinds of things do we like to do together?” Hillary asked.   
“We go out to dinner, we go to the movies. We like to go to Broadway plays. We take walks in Central Park when we can,” Derek answered. “Things like that.”   
That didn’t sound too bad to Hillary, she thought. It sounded pretty similar to her life with Bill.   
Hillary noticed Derek’s gaze move to where Hillary’s wedding and engagement rings were sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.   
“That’s your wedding ring, isn’t it?” He asked.  
Hillary nodded.   
“Then why is it sitting here?” Derek asked.   
“They took it off for the surgery and for the scans,” Hillary answered.   
“Oh, okay,” Derek said, nodding. He picked up the ring and took a hold of Hillary’s left hand. “Shall I?”  
“No!” Hillary said, a little harsher than she intended to, while quickly pulling her hand away.   
Derek flinched.   
“I’m sorry,” Hillary apologized. “I’m so, so, sorry. It’s just you’re...well...a stranger to me.”  
“Of course,” Derek said, clenching his jaw shut while still holding the ring. “Of course. It was stupid of me.”  
“I’m really sorry, Derek,” Hillary apologized again. “I do want to get to know you and love you and all of that. You must be an amazing person or else I wouldn’t have married you. And you’re really handsome and gorgeous.”   
Derek perked up a bit at that last comment.   
“It’s just...you’re not Bill. In the last memories I have, I was happily married to him,” Hillary explained.   
“I know I’m not Bill,” Derek harshly said.  
 _Oh, God, I’m making everything worse_ Hillary thought with a feeling in her stomach that that issue had come up in their marriage before.   
“It’s strange,” Derek said, softening a bit. “You’re not yourself. The doctors warned me that you might not be your usual self but this is pretty...extreme.”   
He put Hillary’s wedding ring back on top of the nightstand and took Hillary’s left hand in his own. “It’s okay, though. We’ll get you back to your usual self. I know we will. And just so you know, Hillary...I love you. A lot.”  
“Thank you,” Hillary awkwardly said, not knowing how to respond to that. He sounded sincere. The only other man who had ever said “I love you” to her that seriously before was Bill and it felt and sounded weird to hear another man say it so meaningfully.   
“Derek, I’m sure I love you, too. Deep down somewhere,” Hillary managed to add, clasping his hand. "And I’ll remember eventually. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow but...eventually.”  
Derek squeezed her hand and nodded, looking slightly confused.   
“Eat your lunch and take a nap,” he said. “I’ll let you get some peace and quiet.”   
“Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and remember everything. You never know,” Hillary said, shrugging, as Derek stood up and picked up his briefcase.   
“We can only hope,” Derek said, squeezing Hillary’s shoulder with his free hand. “But even if you don’t, we’ll sort this all out, sweetheart. Okay?”  
“Okay,” Hillary agreed, nodding.   
“See you tomorrow,” Derek said, leaving a quick peck on Hillary’s forehead.  
Hillary watched him leave the room and the door close behind him. Hillary sighed. Her head was beginning to throb again, everything was too much. She closed her eyes to take a nap, half hoping that when she woke up, it would be 1995 again and that this had all been a horrible dream.

To Be Continued...


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your comments and reviews! It's still going to be one or two more chapters until Bill comes back from his business trip, sorry to keep you guys waiting so long! But it'll hopefully be worth the wait. In this chapter you're going to learn more about Hillary's married life with Derek :) 
> 
> And I'm not a doctor or anything obviously so the stuff about amnesia in this chapter is from the original book I got the idea for the story from.

It was the next morning and Hillary was eating her breakfast. The day before hadn’t all been a dream. It was still the year 2000 and she still had long silky golden hair and perfect teeth. She was taking a bite of toast and sipping her coffee when a clerk from the hospital gift shop walked into the room, wheeling a cart that had an impressive amount of flower arrangements on it.  
“Wow, is one of those for me?” Hillary asked.  
“All of them are,” The clerk replied, caught off guard.  
“ _All_ of them?” Hillary sputtered, nearly spilling out her coffee.  
“You must be popular!” The clerk said. “We almost ran out of vases. And here are the cards that came with them.”  
She handed Hillary a stack of little cards.  
“Thanks,” Hillary said, still in shock.  
The clerk nodded and left the room while Hillary began reading the cards. 

_Hillary,_  
_Darling! Get well soon and all my love and best wishes. See you soon._  
_-Whitney_

Whitney? Hillary didn’t know anybody named Whitney. She shrugged and flipped to the next one. 

_Best wishes for a speedy recovery.  
-Joe and Jill Biden _

She didn’t know them either.

_Hillary, all the best and get well soon! You’ll be back to doing 100 leg raises in no time!  
From your friends at the gym._

100 leg raises? That explained the toned and muscled legs, Hillary figured. Hillary reached for the next card and was relieved that it was from people she actually knew and remembered. 

_Get well soon, Hillary.  
Best wishes from Betsy, Michelle, Dana, and the entire Family Law department. _

Hillary smiled to herself. At least her friends hadn’t forgotten about her. She was beginning to feel like they had.  
She felt her stomach flip flop when she read the next one. 

_Hillary,_  
_I was so sorry to hear about your accident. Best wishes and get well soon._  
_-Bill_

Hillary gripped onto the card. Bill hadn’t forgotten about her either.  
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Amber walked into the room.  
“Wow, somebody’s popular!” Amber remarked, seeing all the flower arrangements.  
“Yeah...” Hillary said.  
“So, Hillary, how are you feeling today?” Amber asked.  
“A lot better,” Hillary honestly answered. “Much, much better, in fact.” She glanced down at the card from Bill again and smiled. That was exactly what she had needed to cheer her up.  
“Your husband is gorgeous by the way!” Amber commented, interrupting Hillary’s thoughts about Bill. She had to remind herself that Derek was her husband, not Bill.  
“You think so?” Hillary said in response to Amber’s comment, trying to act nonchalant. “He’s nice-looking, I guess...”  
“He’s fantastic!” Amber responded. “And guess what? He came around to the entire floor yesterday, thanking us all again for taking care of you. Not many people do that.”  
“That _is_ nice,” Hillary agreed. Maybe Derek wasn’t so bad after all. “To be honest, I still can’t believe he’s my husband. He’s the complete opposite of my ex-husband, as far as I can tell anyways.”  
There was a knock at the door.  
“Come in!” Hillary called.  
Chelsea and Dorothy walked in, both carrying huge shopping bags filled with photo albums, scrapbooks, and envelopes.  
“Good morning,” Amber said, holding the door open for them. “Hillary is feeling _a lot_ better today.”  
“That’s good,” Chelsea said, putting the bags down on the floor.  
“Does she remember anything yet?” Dorothy asked.  
“I’m still experiencing severe memory loss,” Hillary answered.  
“Well we’ve brought you tons of photos. Maybe that’ll help trigger some memories,” Chelsea cheerfully said.  
“Great!” Hillary said, suddenly feeling excited. Hopefully these photos had some of the answers she was looking for. “Show me my life!” she said, putting the cards from the flower arrangements off to the side.  
“Maybe we should wait until Derek gets here with the wedding video. If that doesn’t trigger your memory, nothing will,” Dorothy said.  
_The wedding video. My wedding_ Hillary thought. _To somebody who isn’t Bill._  
She did have a nervous anticipation about watching it, she had to admit.  
“So...he seems nice,” Hillary said. “Derek, I mean. My new husband.”  
“He’s wonderful,” Dorothy agreed, absentmindedly flipping through one of the photo albums, looking for pictures to show Hillary. “He does a lot for charity, you know. Or his company does. But it’s his company so it’s all the same.”  
“He has his own company?” Hillary asked.  
“Yes, dear. He’s a real estate developer,” Dorothy answered. “We’ve been over this. He develops hotels and condominiums all over New York City and the East Coast. He sold off a large part of it last year but he still has a controlling interest.”  
“He made twenty million dollars from that sale,” Chelsea remarked, flipping through a stack of photos.  
“ _What?_ ” Hillary exclaimed, in shock.  
“He’s loaded, mom,” Chelsea said, looking at her mother. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t already guessed that.”  
“It’s not polite to talk about money, Chelsea,” Dorothy lightly admonished.  
There was a knock at the door. “Hills? Can I come in?”  
Derek.  
Hillary quickly checked her reflection in the compact mirror she had found in her purse and sprayed herself with some Chanel perfume that was also in the Prada handbag.  
“Come in, Derek!” Dorothy called.  
The door opened and Derek walked in carrying two shopping bags also filled with photo albums, another gorgeous bouquet of flowers, and some kind of gift basket.  
“Hi, honey,” he said, putting his stuff down and coming over to the side of Hillary’s bed. “How are you feeling, today?” He lightly kissed Hillary’s cheek.  
“Much better, thank you,” Hillary replied, smiling at him.  
“She still doesn’t remember you though,” Chelsea remarked, bluntly.  
“Well, we’re going to work on that today,” Derek said, not seeming fazed by Chelsea’s comment.  
He picked up one of the shopping bags. “I’ve brought photo albums, videos, souvenirs, trinkets. Time to reintroduce you to your life. Dorothy, do you mind putting on the wedding video?” He handed Dorothy a black VHS cassette tape. “And to get you started, I’ve brought our wedding album.”  
He heaved an expensive looking white photo album onto the bed and handed it to Hillary. And if she wanted proof that she was actually remarried, the proof was right there in black and white. Or white and silver rather. Hillary stared at the embossed words on the cover of the photo album in disbelief. 

_Hillary & Derek  
May 16, 1998_

She opened to the first page and her stomach dropped. Staring back at her was an elegant looking black and white photograph of her as a bride. She was wearing a long white, elegant, sleek mermaid style wedding dress that accentuated her curves in all the right places; her hair was up in an elegant and sophisticated bun; and she was holding a bouquet of white flowers. She flipped to the next page. Derek was standing beside her in that picture, dressed in a tuxedo. They were holding glasses of champagne, toasting and smiling at each other.  
_We look like people in a magazine_ Hillary thought. None of it felt real to her yet. But if she wanted proof, this was an actual wedding. This was the proof.  
Hillary looked up from the wedding album when she heard noise coming from the television. She looked at the TV screen and saw shots of people mingling and chatting with each other. Hillary and Derek were standing next to the wedding cake, about to cut it, and talking to somebody off screen.  
“We just had a small, intimate ceremony with a few close friends and family members so we decided not to record it. This is the wedding reception afterwards where we invited everyone else,” Derek explained.  
“Right,” Hillary said, nodding.  
_I can’t believe I can’t even remember my own wedding day_ Hillary thought. Hillary didn’t recognize most of the people in the video but she spotted her mom in a grey dress, and she saw Chelsea wearing a dark purple bridesmaids dress. She noticed her brothers and their wives in the crowd as well. The venue looked to be very trendy, with glass walls, silver furniture and floral arrangements everywhere. People were spilling into a wide terrace area, their champagne glasses in hand.  
“Where was the venue?” Hillary asked.  
“Sweetheart, Hills...” Derek started, awkwardly laughing. “That’s our home.”  
“Our _home?_ ” Hillary exclaimed. “But it’s huge.”  
Derek shrugged, “It’s the penthouse. It’s a decent size.”  
A “decent size”?  
_It’s massive. That’s crazy!_ Hillary thought.  
“And who’s that?” Hillary asked, pointing to a tall blonde pretty girl in a matching purple bridesmaids dress that Hillary had recognized Chelsea wearing. The girl was whispering into Hillary’s ear in the video.  
“That’s Whitney. Your best friend,” Derek answered.  
_Best friend? I’ve never seen that woman before in my life_ Hillary thought. She was tall, skinny, tanned, a huge diamond bracelet was on her wrist and she had long flowing California-girl hair.  
Hillary suddenly remembered that she had gotten flowers from somebody named Whitney.  
“Does she work at Rose and Associates?” Hillary asked.  
“Oh, God, no,” Derek answered, laughing. “This is kind of fun actually.”  
Derek fast forwarded the tape a bit. “Now this is us on vacation in The Bahamas last year...”  
Hillary didn’t recognize the woman on the screen in front of her. Was that _her?_ She had perfect beach waves in her hair, she was tanned and thin and walking along the sand wearing a sexy black one-piece suit.  
“And here we are at a charity ball this past winter...” Derek said, fast forwarding the tape again.  
“Derek _loves_ giving to charity,” Dorothy piped in.  
“Do you remember any of this, darling?” Derek asked Hillary.  
“Not really,” Hillary sheepishly answered. “Sorry.”  
“You know, I was reading up on amnesia last night,” Chelsea said, “And you know what might trigger your memory? Smell. Maybe you could try to _smell_ Derek?”  
“Well, it’s worth a shot,” Derek said.  
“Um...I guess so...Would you mind if I smelled you, Derek?” Hillary awkwardly asked.  
“Not at all! It’s worth trying,” Derek said, pausing the tape.  
Hillary leaned in and smelled Derek’s neck. She smelled his soap and aftershave and a general manly kind of smell, but nothing came rushing back to her brain.  
“Anything?” Derek asked.  
Hillary sighed, “No, nothing.”  
“So this hasn’t been the greatest success,” Derek said, looking defeated.  
“No,” Hillary said, frowning.  
“Well, it’s still early,” Derek said, closing the wedding album.  
He was smiling but Hillary could tell that he was disappointed. And she was quite disappointed herself. What if her memories were gone _forever?_  
* * *  
That afternoon, Hillary had met with a neuropsychologist, Dr. Williams and he had done several tests on her.  
“You’re functioning very well, all things considered, Hillary,” Dr. Williams said, as he concluded his last test. “You executive skills are intact; your short-term memory is pretty good, considering, you don’t have any major cognitive problems. But you’re suffering from a severe case of focal retrograde amnesia. And it’s very unusual.”  
“But why?” Hillary asked.  
“Well it has to do with the way you hit your head. When your head hit the windshield, your brain was thrown around in your skull and a part of your brain was damaged. Let’s call it the warehouse of your memories. So either the part of your brain where memories are stored has been damaged, _or_ , perhaps, your ability to _retrieve_ your memories from the warehouse has been damaged. In that case, the warehouse is still intact so to speak, but you’re unable to open the door.”  
“Well, can’t you give me an electric shock or something?” Hillary asked. “Or hit me over the head really hard?” She laughed a little.  
“Unfortunately, contrary to what movies would have you believe, hitting an amnesiac over the head isn’t going to bring their memories back,” Dr. Williams answered, chuckling a bit.  
“I had to try,” Hillary joked.  
Dr. Williams laughed and pushed his chair back. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.” 

When they got back to Hillary’s room, Chelsea and Dorothy were still watching home movies and Derek was talking on his cell phone. As soon as he saw Hillary being wheeled in he finished his conversation and hung up.  
“How was it?” Derek asked.  
“Did you remember anything, sweetheart?” Dorothy asked.  
“Nothing,” Hillary admitted, shrugging as she climbed back into her hospital bed.  
“Once Hillary returns to her familiar surroundings, her memory will probably return eventually,” Dr. Williams explained. “Although it may take some time.”  
“Right,” Derek said, nodding. “And what’s next?”  
“Well,” Dr. Williams said, flipping through Hillary’s chart. “Physically, you’re recovering well, Hillary. You’ll probably be discharged in a day or two. I’ll make an appointment for you a month from now as an outpatient. Until then, the best place you can be is home in familiar surroundings. I’m sure that’s where you would rather be, too.”  
“Yes, home, great,” Hillary said, flatly as she realized she didn’t know what _home_ was. Home had been her Brownstone with Bill and Chelsea. And that was gone.  
“What’s your address?” Dr. Williams asked. “For my records.”  
“Um...I’m not sure,” Hillary answered awkwardly.  
“I’ll write it down,” Derek offered, taking the pen and chart from Dr. Williams.  
“Well good luck, Hillary,” Dr. Williams said, and turned towards Derek, Dorothy, and Chelsea. “The best thing you can do for Hillary is give her as much information as possible about her life. Write things down, show her photographs and videos, take her back to places she’s been before. If there are any issues feel free to call me.”  
The door closed behind him as he left and there was silence in the room, apart from the home movies that were still playing on the television in the background.  
Derek and Dorothy exchanged looks.  
“What?” Hillary asked.  
“Well, baby, your mom and I were talking earlier about how we should,” he hesitated, “...handle your release from the hospital.”  
“Handle my release?” Hillary said, with a raised eyebrow.  
“Well, I mean we’re in a strange situation here, you have to admit,” Derek explained. “I mean, I would love it if you wanted to come home to the penthouse and resume your old life again. But I understand that it may be uncomfortable for you. I mean...you don’t know me at all.”  
“Well, no,” Hillary said, biting her lip. “I don’t.”  
“I was saying to Derek, that you’re _welcome_ to come and stay with me for a few weeks,” Dorothy offered. “It’ll be cramped and you’ll have to sleep on the couch, but it might be kind of fun.”  
Derek wrapped his arm around Hillary’s shoulders. “Honey, I won’t be offended at all. Please know, I understand how tough this must be for you. I’m a stranger to you, like you said. Why on earth would you want to come home with me?”  
Hillary was about to respond but she was caught off guard by an image on the television screen. It was of her and Derek together on a speedboat and Derek was driving the boat. God knows where they were, somewhere tropical probably. The sun was shining and the sea was a beautiful shade of light blue. They looked totally glamorous and successful; like a glamorous couple straight out of a movie.  
Derek was still talking, “The last thing I want to do is hinder your recovery. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll fully support you and completely understand.”  
“Right, yes,” Hillary said, pouring a glass of water and playing for time. “Just let think about it for a few minutes.”  
“Of course! Take your time,” Derek encouraged.  
Hillary weighed her options in her head. She could sleep on the couch in her mom’s tiny, cramped, one bedroom apartment...or she could live in a palatial penthouse on the Upper East Side with a gorgeous husband who knew how to drive a speedboat.  
“You know what, Derek,” Hillary said, slowly drawing out her words. “Maybe I _should_ come and live with you at the penthouse.”  
“Seriously?” Derek said, his face lit up but Hillary could tell he was taken aback.  
Hillary shrugged, “You’re my husband. I should be with you and get to know you.”  
“But you don’t remember me,” Derek said uncertainly.  
“Like I said, I’ll get to know you!” Hillary said, suddenly feeling enthusiastic. “I think the best chance I have of remembering my life again is to live it exactly as I did before the accident. You can tell me more about yourself, me, and our marriage. I’ll learn it all over again! And the doctors did say that being back in familiar surroundings would help get my memories back. They’ll trigger my ability to retrieve memories, or something like that.”  
“Are you sure?” Derek double checked.  
“Derek, I really want to come home with you,” Hillary said, sincerely. “Everyone has to work at their marriage in some way or another. I’m sure we have an amazing, loving marriage. Like I said, I wouldn’t have married you otherwise. We can work things out.”  
“It would be amazing to have you back at home but please don’t feel obligated or anything—”  
“Obligated?” Hillary cut him off. “No, I’m doing this because it feels right. Really.”  
“Well, I think it’s a good idea,” Dorothy chimed in.  
“Me, too,” Chelsea agreed.  
“So, it’s settled,” Hillary said. “Simple as that.”  
“Obviously you don’t want to...” Derek awkwardly said. “I mean, I’ll take the guest room of course.”  
“Of course,” Hillary agreed. “I would appreciate that. Thank you, Derek.”  
“As long as you’re sure about this,” Derek checked one more time.  
“I am! Promise,” Hillary insisted, giggling a bit.  
“So, how about we do this properly?” Derek asked, glancing questioningly at Hillary’s rings, still sitting atop the nightstand.  
“Sure,” Hillary said, smiling as she tentatively held her left hand out to Derek.  
She watched transfixed as Derek slipped the rings onto her finger. First the wedding ring, next the enormous diamond engagement ring.  
_Fuck, that diamond’s huge_ Hillary thought.  
“Are you comfortable, Hillary?” Derek checked.  
“Yes! I feel great. Things feel...right,” Hillary answered, feeling swept up in the fairytale of it all. She couldn’t wait to see what her new life with Derek would be like. 

To Be Continued...


	8. Chapter 7

It was two days later and Hillary had been released from the hospital. Derek was driving the both of them home to their penthouse in his silver Mercedes convertible. The cuts on her face were healing and the bruises were fading. The doctors had told her to return to the hospital in one week’s time to have the stitches in her stomach removed and she was relieved that they had taken the staple out of her forehead. She had taken a shower before leaving the hospital and was feeling much more refreshed and relaxed.   
“You’re sure you’re alright?” Derek checked. “I know it might be difficult to be in a car again, after the accident. If you feel scared, just let me know.”  
Hillary laughed to herself. Derek had been double checking that she was okay to be in a car again the whole ride home so far.  
“Honestly, Derek, I’m fine,” Hillary reassured him. “I don’t even remember the accident. It’s like a story I’ve been told that happened to somebody else.” She shrugged.  
Derek smiled over at her and squeezed her hand while they were stopped at a red light. Hillary couldn’t help but smile back. She still missed Bill more than anything (not that she would ever admit that to Derek) but she had been enjoying getting to know Derek better over the past few days. She kept reminding herself that there must be a reason why she had divorced Bill and ended up marrying Derek. She was mostly looking forward to seeing what life with Derek would be like. Plus, she still couldn’t believe the turn her life had taken over the past five years. Suddenly, she was driving in a Mercedes convertible with a gorgeous man who wasn’t Bill. She looked down at the clothes she was wearing that Derek had brought her. She had on a pair of dark wash boot cut jeans, two sizes smaller than she used to wear, and a flowy white blouse.   
In the backseat of the car were all of the flowers and gifts that she had received while in the hospital, including a gift basket from Rose & Associates that had come with a note attached from someone named Elizabeth, which said there was no rush for Hillary to return to work and to return when she was feeling well enough. It was signed “Elizabeth Adams, Executive Assistant to Hillary Rodham.”   
Hillary was still in disbelief that she had finally become a senior partner at the law firm and that she even had her own executive assistant!   
“Feeling alright, sweetheart?” Derek checked again, resting his hand on top of Hillary’s.   
“Oh yes, great!” Hillary excitedly said.  
Derek turned left and started driving the car into an underground parking garage. “Well, here we are...” He pulled the car into a parking space and turned off the engine.   
“Come and see your home.”  
* * *  
Hillary had spent the last five minutes marveling at her surroundings. The penthouse really was palatial and marvelous. Hillary felt like it was a fancy hotel suite but it was her...home. It wasn’t necessarily decorated to her tastes, it was a bit too modern and trendy for her tastes, but she still had to admit to herself that it was a beautiful apartment. It had amazing light and amazing views of New York City; there was a massive L-shaped cream colored sofa in the living room, a gorgeous glass coffee table, and a large television and entertainment centre. Across the living room was a massive black cocktail bar. Hillary could only imagine the kinds of parties she and Derek must have thrown in the apartment in the past. And when she had seen the master ensuite bathroom, she had marveled at the gigantic spa bathtub and the marble shower that was basically the size of a small room.   
“Do you remember anything?” Derek asked, once they were back in the living room. “Is it triggering any memories?”   
“Unfortunately, no. But it is absolutely gorgeous!” Hillary commented. “I absolutely love the sofa. It must have cost a fortune.”  
Derek nodded, “Twelve thousand dollars.”  
 _Jesus Christ. Twelve thousand dollars? For a sofa?_ Hillary thought.   
“And I um...love the artwork,” Hillary complimented, trying to get over her shock from learning how much the sofa cost. “Whoever decorated the place did an incredible job.”  
Derek nodded, “We had a wonderful interior designer, Carla. She’s brilliant. I’m sure you’ll meet her in a few weeks. I work with her on projects all the time. She tried to incorporate both of our tastes and visions into the place.”   
Hillary politely nodded and smiled but truthfully she didn’t see any of herself in the apartment’s design or decoration. Her thoughts were interrupted when a black and white cat ran into the room.   
“We have a cat?” Hillary asked, grinning.   
“Oh yeah. This is Socks, our cat,” Derek answered, smiling. “Did I forget to tell you about him?”  
Hillary nodded, while bending down to pet him. “He’s adorable!”   
“You were pretty upset and lonely when Chelsea moved all the way to California for college so I got Socks for you. We’re a little family,” Derek said.   
“Aww,” Hillary said.   
Derek’s cell phone started ringing and he went into the kitchen to answer it. He had a brief conversation while Hillary played with Socks. He came back into the living room a few minutes later.   
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. My driver’s downstairs. I’m going to have to go into the office for a few hours. But Whitney is on her way to keep you company. Until then, if anything bothers you, just call or page me at once. I’ll have my beeper on me all day. All the phone numbers are on the fridge for you. And Chelsea said she’d try to stay available today too if anything comes up. Just call her cell. Again, the number is on the fridge. The television remote is on the coffee table and I put on the coffee pot for you. You should get along just fine though.”  
Hillary smiled and nodded, trying to appear calm and collected and not give away how overwhelmed she felt.   
“And...How does Whitney fit into things again?” Hillary asked, while Derek put on his suit jacket.   
“She’s the wife of Dan, my business partner. You two love hanging out together and always have a great time together,” Derek explained.   
“Does she hang out with me and my other friends from work? Like Betsy and Michelle? Do we all go out for girls’ nights together?” Hillary asked.   
“Who?” Derek asked, blankly.   
“Never mind,” Hillary said, quickly. “I’ll give them a call.”  
 _Maybe he’s one of those guys who doesn’t keep up with his wife’s social life_ Hillary thought.   
“Lucinda will be by later, too. She’s our housekeeper. Any problems and she can help you,” Derek said.  
Derek walked over to Hillary and hesitantly took her right hand.   
“Thank you, Derek,” Hillary gratefully said, squeezing his hand. “I do greatly appreciate it.”  
“Welcome home, honey,” Derek said, smiling, before he let go of Hillary’s hand and pressed the ‘down’ button for the elevator. Hillary watched as he got on it and as the elevator doors closed.   
She was finally alone. Alone in her new home. She took it all in again. The glass coffee table, the art books, the expensive cream colored couch. She still didn’t see herself reflected in the apartment but she shrugged. She must have let Derek give more input into the design.

She walked into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. It looked like an expensive and sophisticated coffee maker but luckily Derek had turned it on before he left. She opened and closed a few kitchen cupboards until she found the coffee mugs. She grabbed a simple white mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. She couldn’t find cream or sugar to put in it and sighed to herself. She would just have to drink it black.   
She walked back into the living room and grabbed her purse from the bench by the elevator where she had left it when they first arrived home. She found her cell phone and walked over to the couch, excited to call Betsy. She _couldn’t wait_ to talk to her about everything. She frowned when it went to Betsy’s answering machine. She had been trying to get in touch with Betsy for the past few days and every time she called, it went straight to the machine.  
“Hey, Bets! Guess what? I’m out of the hospital! Give me a call when you can. I can’t wait to see you. Love you.”   
She left similar messages for Dana and Michelle and then put her phone back in her purse. She still couldn’t wait to get more answers about things from Chelsea, her mom, and hopefully Bill himself. How had she, Hillary Rodham, ended up living in a place like this? She started giggling to herself.   
_Sorry, Hillary Johnson_ she suddenly thought.   
That thought made her giggle even more. She couldn’t believe the absurdity of the situation.  
 _RIIINNNGGGG_  
The sound of a loudly ringing telephone suddenly interrupted Hillary’s thoughts and she jumped in surprise, spilling her coffee all over one of the cream colored throw pillows on the couch.   
“Shit!” Hillary cursed. Of course she had spilled coffee on the twelve thousand dollar sofa.   
She flipped the throw pillow around to the other side which was still pristine looking, and prayed that nobody would pick it up anytime soon and see the stain. She would have to deal with it later.   
She walked across the living room and picked up the ringing landline phone from where it was mounted on the wall.   
“Hello...Johnson residence,” she answered, trying to sound calm, cool, and collected.   
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson. It’s the front desk downstairs. Whitney Ford is here to see you.”  
“Oh, great! Send her up,” Hillary answered.   
_My so- called “best friend”. I can’t wait to meet her_ Hillary thought.   
***  
“Oh my God, Hill! Look you at you! Your poor face,” Whitney shrieked, as she got off the elevator and walked into the penthouse.  
Whitney was even taller and skinnier than she looked in the wedding video, Hillary thought, as Whitney towered over Hillary in her sky high stiletto heels. She was dressed in tight dark blue jeans, a baby pink spaghetti strap tank top, and her huge Gucci sunglasses were on top of her head, pushing her bleach blonde hair back off her forehead. Hillary guessed she was probably in her late twenties, early thirties.   
“It’s fine, honestly,” Hillary said, trying to reassure this younger woman who she barely knew. “You should have seen me a week ago. I had a staple in my forehead.”  
“Oh my God. What a nightmare,” Whitney remarked before giving Hillary a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “And that cut above your eyebrow, oh my God. Is it going to leave a scar?”  
“I’m, uh, not sure,” Hillary answered, shrugging. She didn’t really care if it did, either way. “I’m just happy to be alive.”  
“Oh, of course!” Whitney said. “I would have visited you earlier, but you _know_ how long I waited to get that reservation at the spa.”  
“So, would you like a cup of coffee?” Hillary awkwardly asked, gesturing to the kitchen.   
“Hillary,” Whitney said, giving Hillary a confused look. “I can’t have caffeine right now. I’m doing a detox. You know that.”   
Whitney suddenly sneezed, “And could you lock the cat in the bedroom or something? You know I’m allergic.”   
“Um, actually, I don’t _know_ those things. I don’t know if Derek told you or not but I have amnesia from hitting my head in the car crash,” Hillary explained as politely as she could.   
Whitney gave her a blank stare.   
“I don’t remember anything from the past five years,” Hillary continued. “It’s like its all been wiped blank in my memory. The last thing I remember is being happily married to Bill five years ago.”  
“Oh my God!” Whitney said, clasping her hand to her mouth. “Derek told me you had amnesia and that you didn’t know who I was but I thought he was kidding!”  
“No, he wasn’t kidding,” Hillary said. “To me...you’re a stranger.”  
“A stranger?” Whitney remarked, sounding hurt.   
“Derek was a stranger too,” Hillary replied. “I woke up and I thought I was still married to Bill. I had no idea who Derek is. I still don’t, really.”  
“Oh, my God, what an absolute _nightmare_ ,” Whitney commented, after she took a moment to process everything. “You seriously thought you were married to _Bill?_ Ugh, nightmare.”  
“What’s so wrong about being married to Bill?” Hillary asked Whitney defensively.   
“Ugh, it’s a long story but let’s just say, that Bill and I aren’t exactly friendly with each other,” Whitney said, vaguely.   
“Um, okay...” Hillary said, feeling more confused than ever. She watched Whitney put down her purse on top of the kitchen table and sit down; Hillary followed suit.   
“So yeah, I don’t know anything about this place,” Hillary said, spreading her arms around. “I don’t know my own home or what my life is like. Maybe you can help me out and tell me things?”  
“Of, of course! Absolutely!” Whitney said cheerfully.   
“Thanks,” Hillary said, gratefully. “I know it’s a strange situation.”  
“Is it _permanent_?” Whitney asked.   
Hillary shrugged, “My memory could come back but no one knows if it ever will. Or when. Or how much of it will.”  
“And apart from that, are you okay?” Whitney asked.   
“Well, my left hand is a little bit weak still and I have exercises to do, but other than that, I’m fine,” Hillary answered.   
“ _Nightmare_ ,” Whitney repeated, blowing her breath out.   
“I’m more concerned with not knowing anything about my life since 1995. It’s just a big black hole. The doctor said I should talk to my friends and family members about my life, and maybe it’ll trigger something?” Hillary said.   
“Of course,” Whitney nodded. “I’ll fill you in. What do you want to know?”  
“Well,” Hillary said, thinking for a moment. “How did we meet?”  
“It was about six months after you and Derek had started dating, and I just gotten engaged to my husband, Dan,” Whitney began. “Derek took you as his date to a company party, and he introduced me to you. And that’s how we met!”   
“Uh-huh,” Hillary said. “I don’t remember.”  
“Really? It was Dan’s birthday party, and oh my God, his nightmare ex-girlfriend, Marissa showed up and I nearly pushed her into the swimming pool if Derek hadn’t stopped me...” she suddenly trailed off. “Wait...you don’t remember any _gossip?_ ”  
“Nope,” Hillary said.   
“Oh my God,” Whitney said, pulling a pen and a notepad out of her purse. “I have so much to fill you in on! Where to start? Okay, there’s me!”  
She suddenly started taking notes and making diagrams. “And my husband, Dan, and his evil nightmare ex Marissa. Wait until you hear about that absolute _bitch!_ And then there’s Sophie and Nick—”  
“Do you ever hang out with my other friends?” Hillary asked, interrupting her. “Like Betsy and Michelle? Or Dana? Do you know them?”  
“Michelle? Michelle?” Whitney asked, frowning. “Is she one of your friends from the gym?”  
“No, she’s my friend from work. And Betsy and Dana. I must have talked about them before. I’ve known Betsy since I was a child. We go out almost every Friday night?” Hillary tried.   
“Hill, I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned them before, if I’m being honest,” Whitney replied, giving Hillary a blank look. “As far as I know, you don’t socialize with your coworkers.”  
“Really?” Hillary asked, shocked. “But we love having girl’s nights out! We go to bars...and sing karaoke... and drink tequila shots.”   
“Honey, I’ve never even _seen_ you with a shot of liquor,” Whitney said, laughing hysterically. “You and Derek are strictly wine drinkers.”  
“Really?” Hillary asked, surprised.   
“I’m sorry. I’m confusing you,” Whitney said. “This is probably too much information. We can forget the gossip for now.” She crumples the sheet of paper she had been writing on into a little ball. “What would you like to do?”  
“We could watch TV?” Hillary suggested. “Or go for a walk in Central Park? Maybe we could just do whatever we would normally do together?”  
“Of course!” Whitney responded. “I know! Let’s go to the gym.”  
“The gym,” Hillary said, trying to sound excited. “So...I go to the gym a lot?”  
“Babe, you’re obsessed! You go on the elliptical for an hour every other morning at five a.m.”  
 _Me? Go on the elliptical for an hour at five am?_ Hillary thought in disbelief.   
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea today,” Hillary said. “I had surgery and I still have stitches in my stomach...”  
“We’ll just take it nice and easy today,” Whitney reassured her. “We can do a nice relaxing yoga class or a gentle stretching class. Just grab your workout clothes and we’ll go!”  
“Okay,” Hillary said, hesitantly. “Actually, here’s the thing...I don’t know where my clothes are. I haven’t had a chance to fully explore this place yet and every closet in our bedroom is filled with Derek’s clothes. I can’t find any of mine.”  
Whitney’s eyes widened in shock, “You don’t know where your _clothes_ are? Oh my God, that must be terrifying to have forgotten your entire wardrobe.”  
She took a deep breath, fanned her face, and grabbed Hillary’s hand. “Come on, babe. I’ll show you! Let’s go!”  
* * *  
Hillary soon realized that the reason that she couldn’t find her clothes was because they weren’t in a closet. They were in a whole other _room_ that was hidden behind a door that was disguised to look like a full-length mirror. And the reason why they were in their own room was because there were _so fucking many of them._  
Hillary felt faint as she stared at the racks and racks of clothes. She had never seen so many clothes before in her life outside of a store. She started going through a rack of grey, cream, and black pantsuits in awe. She had never seen so many pantsuits before in her life. Everything was designer and there was nothing that didn’t look brand-new and immaculate. There were no ripped, baggy jeans, no big comfy sweaters, or old ratty sweats.   
“So...what do you think?” Whitney asked, her eyes glistening and her eyebrows raised.   
“It’s incredible!” Hillary said.   
“Emma has a great eye,” Whitney said. “Emma, your personal shopper.”  
“I have a personal shopper?” Hillary asked.   
“Just for the main pieces every season,” Whitney explained, pulling out a black cocktail dress. “This is the dress you were wearing the first time we met. And let me tell you, you were the talk of the party that night. And oh my God, Hillary, there were so many disappointed ladies out there when you and Derek got married.” She grabbed a long dark green evening gown. “And you wore this to my house for a dinner party last month...you don’t remember?”   
“Not really,” Hillary said, honestly.   
“What about your Dior? Or your Versace? You must remember _that_ one...or your...”   
Whitney was showing Hillary dress after dress, none of which looked familiar to her.   
“Oh, I know!” Whitney suddenly said, pushing a bunch of dresses to the right and reaching for a black garment bag. “Your wedding dress!” She unzipped the garment bag and showed Hillary a white wedding dress that she remembered from the wedding video.   
“Doesn’t this bring it all back?” Whitney asked expectantly. “It’s a custom designed Vera Wang!”  
Hillary stared at the dress and tried to remember as hard as she could but...nothing.   
“It’s a beautiful dress, but no, I don’t remember that day,” Hillary answered honestly, sighing.   
“Oh my God, you and Derek should totally renew your vows!” Whitney said excitedly. “I can plan it for you!”   
“We’ll see,” Hillary said, vaguely. “It’s still early days. I’ll, um, think about it.”  
“What about your shoes?” Whitney said, while packing the wedding dress away. “You _have_ to remember your shoes.”  
She ran across the room and flung open a cupboard. Hillary tried not to gasp. She had never seen so many shoes in one place before. They were in neat rows, most of them high heels.   
“Do you remember these?” Whitney asked, grabbing a pair of nude high heeled pumps at random. “You were wearing them the last time we had lunch together.”  
Hillary sighed, “No.”  
“Well, never mind. We have to get going to the gym. We’ll come back to these later,” Whitney said, as she opened a drawer, grabbed some workout clothes and put them into an oversized tote bag. “Come on, let’s go!”  
* * *   
Hillary and Whitney were driving to the gym in Whitney’s large black SUV. Hillary noticed that designer shopping bags were strewn all over the backseat.   
“So what do you do for a living?” Hillary asked her.   
“Well I’m a model actually. But I do a lot of volunteer and charity work too,” Whitney answered.   
“Oh, volunteer work?” Hillary asked, realizing that she and Whitney might have something in common after all. “What kind?”  
“Event planning,” Whitney answered nonchalantly.   
“For a particular charity?”  
“No, mostly just for friends,” Whitney answered, shrugging. “You know if they need help with the flowers or decorations. Things like that.”  
“Oh...” Hillary said.   
“I do a lot for the company too,” Whitney added. “Derek’s great at letting me get involved with company parties, launch parties, things like that.”  
“So you like Derek?” Hillary asked, trying to sound casual.   
“Oh, yes!” Whitney answered enthusiastically. “He’s a perfect husband. Absolutely perfect. Mine’s a _monster_.”  
“Really?” Hillary said, staring at her.   
“Well, I’m a monster, too,” Whitney said, laughing hysterically. “It’s a love-hate relationship. We’re so crazy. Anyways, here we are!” Whitney maneuvered her car into a spot on the street.   
* * *  
She and Whitney had taken a yoga class and Hillary had to admit that it had been relaxing and it had helped calm her mind down a bit. She had always been active and exercised, and did yoga throughout her life but she couldn’t believe how _flexible_ she was, at 52. She definitely hadn’t been that flexible before the accident.   
“I can’t believe it!” Hillary said to Whitney while they were in the change room after the class. “I always exercised but I definitely wasn’t great at it or anything.”   
“Babe, you’re a natural!” Whitney complimented, while she slathered lotion all over herself. “You’re the best one in the entire class.”  
Hillary applied some lip gloss from a tube that she had found in her purse, and as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her gaze was drawn to her teeth and lips.   
_My mouth did not look like that in 1995_ Hillary thought. _I know it didn’t._  
“Whitney,” Hillary whispered. “Can I ask you a...personal question?”  
“Sure!” Whitney whispered back.   
“Did I ever have work done? To my face? Like Botox...or lip injections?”   
_I can’t believe I even had to ask that_ Hillary thought.   
“Hillary!” Whitney said, looking horrified. “Shhh!”   
“But...”  
“Shh! Of course we haven’t had anything done. We’re all totally, one-hundred-percent natural,” Whitney said to Hillary, with a wink.  
 _What the hell does that wink mean?_ Hillary thought.   
“No, Whitney, you have to tell me what I’ve had done...” Hillary trailed off; distracted when she realized what she had been doing. She had been absentmindedly taking bobby pins from Whitney’s makeup bag and putting her hair up in a bun on autopilot. In 30 seconds, she had created the most perfect bun.  
 _What the fuck?_ Hillary thought.   
“What?” Whitney asked, noticing Hillary’s confused face.   
“I just put my hair up like I was on autopilot or something,” Hillary remarked.   
“Yeah...and?” Whitney asked. “You wear it like that every day, Hill.”  
“But I don’t _remember_. It’s like I’m a whole new person!” Hillary answered. “It’s not me.”  
“Oh, sweetie. It is you!” Whitney responded, squeezing Hillary’s shoulder. “And you better get used to it!”   
***  
Whitney took Hillary out for lunch after they were changed, and then Whitney drove her home. Hillary felt utterly exhausted suddenly as they traveled up to the penthouse in the elevator.   
“So?” Whitney said, as they got off the elevator and entered the apartment. “Do you want to have another look at your clothes?”  
“Actually, I’m exhausted,” Hillary answered apologetically. “Do you mind if I go and take a nap?”  
“Oh, of course not,” Whitney said understandably. “I’ll wait here for you. Make sure you’re okay.”  
“I think I’ll be okay until Derek comes home. But thanks, Whitney. You’ve been so kind today,” Hillary replied.   
“Of course,” Whitney said, nodding. She gave Hillary a hug. “I’ll give you a call later. Take care of yourself.”  
She was about to press the down button for the elevator when something occurred to Hillary.   
“Whitney?” Hillary asked. “What should I make Derek for dinner tonight?”  
Whitney opened her mouth in shock.   
“I just thought you might know his likes and preferences,” Hillary said, laughing awkwardly.   
“Sweetie...sweetie. No. _You_ don’t cook dinner. Lucinda does the cooking. Your housekeeper? She’s probably out grocery shopping right now but then she’ll come back, make dinner, make your bed...”  
“Oh yeah, duh!” Hillary said, nodding and laughing, trying to pretend like she knew that all along.   
_Damn, this new lifestyle is really going to be difficult to get used to_ Hillary thought. She liked doing things like cooking and cleaning for herself.   
“Well, I guess I’ll go nap now,” Hillary said. “See you later.”  
Whitney blew Hillary a kiss and pressed the button for the elevator while Hillary headed for the master bedroom.   
Hillary took off her shoes, climbed underneath the cozy duvet, let herself sink into the luxurious sheets and felt herself instantly relax.   
_This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in_ Hillary thought as she drifted off to sleep.  
* * *  
She woke up a few hours later to a knocking on the bedroom door.   
“Sweetheart? Are you awake?”  
Derek.  
Hillary sleepily sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Um, come in.”  
The door opened and Derek walked in, carrying a tray of food and a gift bag.   
“You’ve been asleep for hours. I brought you some dinner,” he said. He walked over to the bed and put down the tray in front of Hillary and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. “I wasn’t sure how hungry you would be so I got Lucinda to make something light. It’s just a bit of chicken and vegetable soup.”  
“Oh, lovely!” Hillary said. “Thanks!”   
Derek smiled as Hillary began eating. “Whitney told me you girls went to the gym today.”  
Hillary nodded, “We did. It was fun.”   
She took another spoonful of soup, suddenly realizing that she was starving.   
“Hey, Derek, you couldn’t get me a piece of bread or a roll or something, could you? To sop up the broth with?” she asked.   
“Bread?” Derek asked, frowning. “Sweetheart, we don’t keep bread in the house. We’re both low-carb.”  
“Oh, right,” Hillary realized. She had forgotten about the low-carb thing. “No problem.”  
 _I can be low-carb. Easy_ Hillary thought.   
“Which brings me to my gifts,” Derek said. “Here’s the first one.”   
He reached into the gift bag and produced a laminated, ring-bound book. The front cover was a picture of Hillary and Derek on their wedding day and the title read: _Derek and Hillary Johnson: Marriage Manual_.   
“Remember the doctor suggested writing down all the details of our life?” Derek said, looking proud. “Well, I’ve made this little booklet for you. Any question you have about our marriage or our life should be in there.”  
Hillary started flipping through it.   
“So...what do you think?” Derek asked.   
“It’s great!” Hillary said. There were pages and pages of print, mixed in with headings, photos, and even diagrams.   
“It’s in alphabetical order. And I’ve indexed the different sections,” Derek explained. “It should be fairly simple to use.”  
Hillary flipped to the index and started to run her eyes down it. 

_Sex – p. 20_  
Shopping – pg. 21  
Swimming – p. 22 

_Sex!?!?!?_ Hillary immediately flipped to page 20.   
“Don’t read it now,” Derek said, gently closing the book. “You need to eat dinner and relax.”  
Hillary nodded, and finished her soup. She gave Derek a contented smile.   
“Thank you so much, Derek. That was perfect,” Hillary complimented.   
“It’s no problem, baby,” Derek said, gently rubbing Hillary’s back. He removed the tray and set it on the nightstand. He suddenly noticed Hillary’s shoes on the floor.   
“Hillary,” he said. “Shoes go in your dressing room.”  
“Oh...sorry,” Hillary said sheepishly.   
“It’s okay. There’s a lot to learn,” Derek said, reaching for the gift bag again. “And this is my other present...”  
He handed the bag to Hillary.   
“Open it,” he encouraged.   
Hillary pulled out the tissue paper and found a velvet jewelry box.   
“I wanted to give you something that you’d actually _remember_ me giving to you,” Derek explained with a bashful smile.   
Hillary nodded and opened the box. She found a gorgeous diamond pendant strung on a gold chain.   
“Do you like it?” Derek asked.   
“It’s...stunning,” Hillary stammered. “I love it! Truly.”  
Hillary still missed Bill like crazy but she was realizing that Derek wasn’t that bad.   
Derek reached over and stroked Hillary’s hair. “It’s really good to have you home, Hill.”  
“Well it feels good to _be_ home,” Hillary answered, but she wasn’t sure if she truly felt that way or if she was just saying it to please Derek. The apartment didn’t really feel like _home_ yet. It felt more like a posh five-star hotel to Hillary. But she knew it would feel like home eventually. Hopefully.  
She noticed Derek playing with a lock of her hair, a tender expression on his face.   
“Derek?” Hillary asked, shyly. “When we first met, what did you see in me? What made you fall in love with me?”  
A reminiscent smile came across Derek’s face.   
“I fell in love with you, Hillary,” he began. “Because you’re driven. You’re successful. You’re passionate and hungry for success, just like me.”  
Hillary nodded, “Go on.”  
“Well, I fell in love with your beautiful lips. And your gorgeous legs. And with the way you swing your briefcase,” Derek said with a slight smirk.  
Hillary smiled and nodded. They were nice words and Derek seemed sincere, but Hillary still noticed how the way Derek spoke about her was the complete opposite of the way Bill would have described falling in love with her.   
“I’ll let you rest now,” Derek said, kissing Hillary on the forehead and picking up the tray. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”   
“See you then,” Hillary murmured sleepily. “Good night, Derek. And...Thank you again.”  
“My pleasure,” Derek said, before he turned off the lamp and left the room, leaving Hillary alone with her thoughts.

To Be Continued...


	9. Chapter 8

It was the next morning and Hillary had been reading the marriage manual ever since she had woken up. And she was absolutely riveted. It was like spying on her own life. She now knew almost everything about her new life, and Derek’s life as well. It was breakfast time and Hillary was consulting the marriage manual to see what she would normally eat for breakfast while Derek was sitting across from her at the kitchen table, reading that day’s _New York Times_. She scrolled through the index looking for _Food_ but something else caught her eye.

_Foreplay – p. 10_

She quickly flipped to page ten since that sounded _a lot_ more interesting than food. She nearly choked on her coffee when she saw that Derek had really written an entire section on foreplay.   
“Everything okay, babe?” Derek asked. “I hope you’re finding the manual helpful. Finding everything you need?”  
“Oh, yes!” Hillary said, feeling flustered all of a sudden. She could feel her cheeks getting warm. She quickly flipped to another page at random. “I was just trying to find out what I normally eat for breakfast.”  
“Lucinda left some scrambled eggs and bacon on the stove,” Derek said. “You can re-heat that. And you usually have a glass of green juice every morning.” He got up and took a pitcher of what looked like green sludge to Hillary out of the refrigerator.   
“Um, I’ll just stick to coffee today,” Hillary politely said as she got up and made a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon before putting it in the microwave.   
“Do we have any hot sauce?” Hillary asked.   
“Hot sauce?” Derek asked with a puzzled look on his face.   
“Yeah, for my eggs. I always eat my scrambled eggs with hot sauce,” Hillary explained.   
“Um, I’ve never seen you do that before, honey, but I’m happy to ask Lucinda to pick up some next time she goes shopping,” Derek said, still puzzled.   
“Alright, then...” Hillary said awkwardly as she took her food out of the microwave. She tried to quell her desire to have her breakfast with hot sauce and a piece or two of toast.   
“Your new car is getting delivered later today,” Derek remarked, taking a sip of coffee. “The replacement for the one that was damaged in the accident. That one was totaled so I bought you a brand new one. I’m guessing you’re in no rush to drive though.”  
“I, uh, hadn’t really thought about it,” Hillary admitted. She didn’t even _know_ or _remember_ how to drive.   
“Well, we’ll figure it out. We’re in New York City so you can take taxis for now,” Derek said. “There was another thing I wanted to ask you, Hill. If you don’t mind, I was thinking we could host a dinner party next Friday. Just a small gathering with a few old friends.”  
“A dinner party?” Hillary said, apprehensively.   
“There is nothing to worry about,” Derek said, reassuringly squeezing Hillary’s shoulder. “We’ll get it catered and Lucinda will help. You won’t have to lift a finger. All you have to do is show up and be your wonderful self. But if you’re not up for it, then forget about it.”  
“Is that something we would normally do on a Friday night?” Hillary asked.  
Derek nodded, “Mmmm hmmm. Sometimes.”  
“Well then of course I’m up for it,” Hillary answered, smiling. “I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m about to break at any minute. I feel amazing.”  
“Well that reminds me of something else. Work,” Derek said, while putting on his suit jacket. “No one expects you to return to full-time work yet of course, but Jonah was wondering if you’d like to go into the office just for a visit. Jonah Humphrey. Do you remember him?”  
“Jonah Humphrey? The managing partner?” Hillary replied.   
“Yep,” Derek said, nodding. “He called here last night. Nice guy. We had a nice chat.”  
“I didn’t think he’d even _heard_ of me,” Hillary said, surprised.   
“Hillary, of course he’s heard of you. You’re a senior partner. You’re an important part of the team,” Derek explained, patiently.   
“Oh, right,” Hillary said, feeling stupid.   
“We agreed it would probably be helpful for you to visit the office sometime next week,” Derek continued. “It might help to bring back some memories. And it would give reassurance to the Family Law department.”   
“Yes, sounds like a fantastic idea,” Hillary agreed with enthusiasm. “I could get to know my job again and see the girls. Maybe we could all go out for lunch.”  
Derek consulted a notepad on the kitchen counter. “Someone named Samantha Davis is standing in for you at the moment. Just until your return, obviously.”  
“Wow, Samantha _used_ to be my boss,” Hillary said in amazement. There was still so much in this new world of hers that she had to learn. She couldn’t wait to go to the office and see what everybody was up to and what was going on.   
“Anyways, have a good day, sweetheart,” Derek said, picking up his briefcase and giving Hillary a quick peck on the forehead.   
“Um, same to you...sweetheart!” Hillary replied awkwardly, with a forced smile on her face.   
Derek stood there for a few more moments as if he was expecting something.   
“I haven’t had time to read the whole manual yet. Would I normally...kiss you goodbye in the morning?” Hillary awkwardly asked.   
“You usually do, yes,” Derek explained. “But if you feel uncomfortable then please don’t—”  
“No! No! It’s fine,” Hillary said. “I mean...we should do everything just like we normally do. It’ll help me get into a routine.”   
Hillary felt like her cheeks were feeling a bit warm again. “So I would kiss you on the cheek...or the lips?”  
“The lips,” Derek said awkwardly, clearing his throat. “That would be the usual thing to do.”  
“Right. Of course,” Hillary said, nodding and trying to act naturally. She reached for his waist. “Like this? Feel free to tell me if it’s not the way I normally do it.”  
“Probably just one hand,” Derek explained. “And it’s usually a bit higher up.”  
Hillary nodded and put her left hand on Derek’s shoulder and let her right hand drop. Then, trying to act as natural as possible, she tilted her face up.  
 _Focus Hillary_ she thought to herself.  
Derek leaned forward and their lips brushed against each other briefly.   
_I feel nothing_ Hillary realized. As she pulled away from the kiss she saw tons of anticipation in Derek’s face and quickly tried to think of something nice to say.  
“That was lovely! Um...”  
“It didn’t bring back any memories?” Derek asked, sadly.   
“Well, no,” Hillary admitted. She had been secretly hoping that it would. “But that doesn’t mean that...I mean...It was nice...you’re a good kisser,” Hillary stammered and rambled. “I feel quite turned on actually!”  
 _Fuck, Hillary. Why did you say that?_ She thought to herself.   
“Really?” Derek said, lighting up, and putting his briefcase down.  
 _Oh no. No no no. Noooooo_ Hillary thought. She definitely _wasn’t_ ready at all to have sex with Derek yet. She still barely knew the guy.   
“Not _that_ turned on,” Hillary said affirmatively. “I mean...just enough to know and realize...that we obviously have...uh, great, chemistry...in the bedroom I mean...”  
 _Stop talking, Hillary. Now._ She thought to herself.   
“Anyways,” Hillary said, once again forcing as huge a smile as she could. “Have a wonderful day, Derek.”  
“You, too,” Derek said, stroking Hillary’s hair before he turned and headed towards the elevator.   
Once she heard the elevator ding and the doors closing, Hillary grabbed the marriage manual and her cup of coffee and walked into the living room. She sunk down into the couch. She still had a lot of reading to do and a lot to learn.   
_This could take a while_ she thought.  
***  
Two hours and three cups of coffee later, Hillary closed the marriage manual and leaned her head back. Her head was bursting with information. She had read it cover to cover and she had a much better picture of her life with Derek. She knew how they spent their weekends, what TV shows and movies they liked to watch together, and she knew that they were lovers of fine and expensive wine.   
She took a deep breath and tried to digest all of the information she had just learned. Her life with Derek was 100% completely different than her life with Bill had been.  
The more she learned about herself, the more she felt like she was a different person than she used to be. She didn’t just look different, she _was_ different. She was a boss who wore designer suits and owned sexy, expensive, designer lingerie. She knew things about fine wine.   
_I stopped eating bread for Christ’s Sake_ Hillary suddenly realized.   
She sighed and turned on the big screen television, just for the sake of having some background noise and because she needed a distraction. She channel surfed for a bit before she settled on cable news.   
“Good morning, Miss. Hillary!”  
A voice that came out of nowhere suddenly made Hillary jump.  
She turned around to see an Eastern European woman in her mid- fifties standing there. She had dark hair that was pulled back in a ponytail, was wearing jeans and a pink T-shirt and she was carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies.   
“You’re awake!” she said. “How are you feeling? Any better today?”  
“Are you Lucinda?” Hillary hesitantly asked.   
“Oh Dear God,” she said. “Mr. Derek warned me. You’re not right in the head. My poor girl.”  
“I’m fine, really,” Hillary insisted. “I’ve just been having some problems with my memory since the accident. So I’m re-learning everything about my life currently.”  
“Well, I’m Lucinda.”  
“It’s very...nice to meet you,” Hillary awkwardly said as Lucinda brushed past her and started wiping down the glass coffee table with Windex.   
“You should use a coaster,” Lucinda said, gesturing to Hillary’s coffee cup on the table. “Mr. Derek will be mad if you don’t.”  
“Oh, um, right. Thanks,” Hillary said.   
“Watching the news, are we?” Lucinda asked, nodding to the television.   
“Yeah, just for a bit of background noise,” Hillary answered before quickly turning the TV off. She watched Lucinda start dusting a display of picture frames.  
 _Jesus Christ, how have I turned into someone who has a housekeeper?_ Hillary thought. _How can I just sit here watching another woman clean my own home?_  
“What would you like me to cook for dinner tonight?” Lucinda asked, as she started fluffing the throw pillows on the couch.   
“Oh!” Hillary said, taken aback. “Nothing! Really! It’s fine. I don’t mind cooking.”  
“Nothing?” Lucinda said, confused. “Do you and Mr. Derek have dinner plans?”  
“No...I really don’t mind doing the cooking though,” Hillary explained. “I’m not an amazing cook or anything but I’m pretty decent in the kitchen.”  
“Oh, I see,” Lucinda said, frowning, her brow furrowed. “Well, whatever you prefer, I guess. I hope you enjoyed the soup last night.”  
“Oh, yes! It was quite delicious, actually,” Hillary replied.   
“Well, I try my best,” Lucinda said.   
Hillary sighed to herself, realizing she probably offended the woman.   
“Let me know if you’d like me to buy you anything that you’d like to cook,” Lucinda said, as she continued fluffing the throw pillows. “If you’re in the mood for something new or different...”  
“Oh, well, I mean,” Hillary felt her throat drying up with nerves. “Actually on second thought, maybe you could make a little something. But don’t go to any great effort or anything. Something small is fine. Just a sandwich maybe. Or you know what, we can just order a pizza or something!”  
“A pizza?” Lucinda replied, dumbfounded.   
“Or...you can cook whatever you want! Whatever you _enjoy_ cooking,” Hillary said, desperately trying to backtrack. She knew she sounded ridiculous.   
She picked up a copy of _Architectural Digest_ that was lying on a side table and flipped to a random page. She tried to ignore the fact that another woman was cleaning her house.   
_How am I ever going to get used to this?_ She thought to herself.   
“Aye! The sofa has been damaged!” Lucinda showed Hillary the coffee stained throw pillow in horror. “Look! Stained! Yesterday morning, it was perfect.”   
“That was...me,” Hillary admitted, stammering. “I accidentally spilled my coffee.”  
“ _You?_ ” Lucinda asked incredulously.   
“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to,” Hillary explained. “Please don’t tell Derek. He doesn’t know. I’ll order another throw pillow cover for it. I promise.”  
Lucinda stared back and forth between Hillary and the stained pillow for several disbelieving moments. Then suddenly she broke into hysterical laughter. She put the cushion down and patted Hillary’s arm.   
“I have a special stain remover. A few sprays of that and it’ll be instantly gone. He’ll never know,” Lucinda reassured her.   
“Oh, thank God,” Hillary said, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. “Thank you so much. That would be wonderful. I’d be so grateful.”  
Lucinda was staring at Hillary with her arms crossed and a perplexed half-frown, half-smile. “You sure nothing else happened when you whacked your head, Miss. Hillary? Like...a personality transplant?”  
“What?” Hillary said, chuckling. “I don’t think so...”  
Lucinda laughed and shook her head to herself and went back to her cleaning.   
Hillary was wringing her hands, not sure what she should do. She didn’t want to just sit there and watch another woman clean her home for her, she would feel too awkward. She was about to call Chelsea and see if she was free for lunch when the phone rang. She half-ran to the other side of the living room and picked up the landline.   
“Hello?”  
“Hello? I have a car delivery for Johnson downstairs.”  
* * *  
“Sign here...and here...” The deliveryman said to Hillary, holding out a clipboard.   
“No problem,” Hillary said, as she quickly scribbled out her signature.   
“Here’s your keys and the paperwork. It’s all yours, ma’am.” The deliveryman took the pen and clipboard from Hillary and walked away. Hillary was left standing there with the keys to a brand new black BMW convertible. She knew from the marriage manual that she had her own personal parking spot in the apartment building’s parking garage but the problem was that she...didn’t remember how to drive. She hadn’t driven since her law school days at Yale but she realized that obviously at some point over the last five years she had re- learned how to drive. She knew she should probably move the car from where it was parked on the street into her assigned parking spot in the garage but she wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to do that. She looked up at the apartment building, her new home, at the shiny _Johnson Tower_ gold sign in block letters that was above the entrance way to the building. She stared at her new BMW and back at the apartment building.   
_How did you get here, Hillary?_ She thought to herself. _How did you end up married to a millionaire?_  
If only she could remember...  
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she noticed a familiar man walking towards her.   
_Bill?_  
She felt her heart flutter with anticipation when she realized it was Bill. He was carrying some kind of folder. And he was walking straight towards her.   
“Bill!” she said, when he was in front of her. She reached her arms out for a hug but he didn’t move to hug her back.   
“Hi, Hillary,” Bill said flatly.  
 _Okay then..._ Hillary thought, putting her arms back at her sides.   
“It’s so good to see you,” Hillary commented. _Finally_ a familiar face.   
He had obviously aged a few years, his hair was grayer than in Hillary’s last memories of him and he had lost a bit of weight but he was as gorgeous as ever Hillary thought.   
“Nice to see you, too,” Bill politely replied. “How are you feeling?”   
“Aside from the memory loss, I’m feeling better every day,” Hillary answered. “Thank you for the flowers by the way.”  
It felt so weird being so formal with him. It still felt like he was her husband to Hillary. She had to remind herself that they had been divorced for several years at this point in time.   
“Memory loss?” Bill said.   
“Yeah, I was in a car crash. I hit my head against the windshield,” Hillary said. “You knew that. You sent me flowers while I was still in the hospital?” She pointed at the remaining cuts and bruises on her face for emphasis. “I have amnesia, Bill.”   
“I know you were in a car accident,” Bill retorted. “And I think Chelsea did say something about memory loss now that you mention it.”  
“Yeah, I thought we were still married when I woke up in the hospital,” Hillary explained, laughing awkwardly. “The last five years are completely blank.”   
“So you don’t remember?” Bill asked, vaguely. “You’re not playing some elaborate prank, Hillary?”   
“Remember what?” Hillary asked, confused. “Why would I joke about something so serious? This isn’t a prank, Bill.” She frowned and sighed. "I’m not in the mood to play games. I’m sorry, Bill. I’m not trying to be rude but I don’t remember anything from the past five years. Not my friends, not even my um...new husband. Derek is a complete stranger to me. Can you believe it? I don’t even know my own husband.”   
Bill didn’t say anything and simply stared straight ahead.   
“So, um, did you come to visit me?” Hillary asked, awkwardly.   
_Jesus, this is weird_ she thought.   
“No, I need to see Derek actually. I was in the neighborhood and I have some papers for him to look over for his newest project,” Bill answered, holding up the folder.   
“Oh, well, um, Derek is at the office right now. Why didn’t you try there?” Hillary asked.   
Bill shrugged, “I was already in the neighborhood. Can you make sure he gets these?”  
“Sure, no problem,” Hillary said, taking the folder from Bill.   
_This feels way too formal_ Hillary thought.   
“Do you need me to park this for you?” Bill asked, gesturing to the car.   
“Oh, yes please!” Hillary said gratefully. “You finally got your driver’s license?”   
Bill nodded, “I do a lot of freelance work in Los Angeles now and everybody drives out there.”   
Hillary nodded in understanding. “I would park it myself but I don’t remember how to drive!” She started laughing hysterically.   
Her laughter finally elicited a small smile from Bill.   
“It’s no trouble,” he said, taking the car keys from Hillary.  
Hillary patiently waited while Bill got into the car and expertly drove it into the parking garage. He walked out of the parking structure a few minutes later and walked back over to where Hillary was standing on the sidewalk.  
“Thanks so much, Bill,” she said graciously. “I really do appreciate it.”  
She waited for Bill to say something in response but he was staring at the ground and seemed lost in thought.   
“What did the doctors say about the amnesia?” Bill suddenly said, looking at Hillary. “Are your memories gone forever?”  
“They might come back anytime. Or they might not,” Hillary answered, shrugging. “No one can say for sure. I’m just trying to re-learn my life right now. Derek is being incredibly helpful and is teaching me about our marriage and everything about our life together. He’s wonderful.”  
There was no response from Bill. He put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the sky.   
_Okay, I don’t know what his problem is_ Hillary thought. He wasn’t being the Bill she remembered from five years ago.   
“I have to go,” Bill said suddenly. “You’ll make sure Derek gets those papers?”  
“Oh, okay. And of course. I’ll make sure to give them to him,” Hillary politely responded. “Thanks again for helping with the car.”  
Bill nodded, “It really was no trouble, Hillary.”  
“And it was nice to see you, Bill,” Hillary said. “Maybe we could meet for a coffee or a drink or something one day. And you know, you can help me fill in some of the gaps in my memory. Help me figure out what happened with...us.”   
Bill nodded, “We’ll do that. Bye, Hillary. See you around.”  
“Bye...” Hillary called after him but he was already walking away and he hadn’t heard her.   
_Well, that was absolutely bizarre..._ Hillary thought.

 

To Be Continued...


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and reviews on this story! We're going to switch gears a bit with this chapter and show what Hillary's work life is like, before going back to Billary. But don't worry, everything will be revealed and come together eventually ;) 
> 
> And disclaimer, everything I know about the law and law firms comes from episodes of The Good Wife and How To Get Away With Murder lol.  
> _________________

It was a week and a half later and Hillary was getting ready to go back to work for a visit. She had been adjusting to her new life—living in the penthouse and being married to Derek—but she was getting tired of puttering around the apartment and watching daytime television so she was extremely excited for her visit to the office. She couldn’t wait to see how things at the office were and how they had changed over the past five years. She was looking forward to getting back into somewhat of a routine, but most of all, she was looking forward to seeing her friends, especially Betsy. Betsy had been her best friend since childhood, and while she was close to Dana and Michelle too, she was closer to Betsy and Betsy was always the first person she called whenever she had important news or needed advice. Which is why she was confused. She had been trying to call Betsy for days, both at home and at work, and kept getting her answering machine. She had even sent Betsy a thank you card in the mail for the flowers. But she hadn’t heard anything back at all. It was weird but Hillary knew there must be a logical explanation, that’s what she kept telling herself. She knew there could be a million reasons why she hadn’t been able to get in touch with her best friend. She tried asking Derek about Betsy but he seemed confused and had no idea who she was. The only friend of hers that he seemed to know was Whitney. At least she was going into work that day so she would get to see her, as well as Dana and Michelle, and the rest of her coworkers. 

She stared at herself in the huge mirror that was inside her gigantic walk-in closet. She was wearing a gorgeous sharp white pantsuit that she had found in the closet and paired it with a pair of spiky nude stiletto pumps. Her hair was blow dried and twisted up into a bun. She felt amazing and confident.  
“How do I look?” She asked Derek when he walked into the room. She did a little twirl for him.  
“Gorgeous!” he said, nodding but he didn’t seem fazed or surprised by her appearance.  
“All set?” He asked.  
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Hillary answered, picking up her purse –A Louis Vuitton tote bag that she had found in the closet.  
“Don’t forget this,” Derek said, walking over to a small cupboard in the corner of the closet. He grabbed a sleek black leather briefcase and handed it to Hillary. “I gave this to you as my wedding present to you.”  
“Wow, its beautiful!” Hillary remarked, running her fingers across the smooth leather. She noticed the discreetly embossed initials: H.J.  
“I know you like using Hillary Rodham for work but I wanted you to take a little piece of me to the office with you every day,” Derek explained.  
Hillary smiled to herself. That was thoughtful, she had to admit.  
“Anyway, I have to get going. I called a car for you and it should be here in about five minutes or so. Have a nice day,” Derek said before quickly kissing Hillary and heading out.  
Hillary smiled to herself and decided to pack her briefcase. As she was putting some pens into one of the side pockets she felt her hand bump against something hard and thin, like a card.  
She pulled it out and smiled when she was realized it was an old photograph. It was a picture of her and Bill, Betsy and Betsy’s husband, and Dana, and Michelle. She remembered that night. It was when she had thrown a surprise 45th birthday party for Bill. He had been really surprised and everybody had had a great time at the party. She looked at everybody’s smiling faces in the picture and sighed to herself. It hurt to see her and Bill in happier times. She sighed again before slipping the photograph back into the briefcase pocket and snapping the briefcase shut. There was no time to dwell on the past when she had to get to work.  
***  
As Hillary took the familiar elevator ride up to the Rose and Associates offices, she felt her stomach fizzing with anticipation. She reached the 23rd floor and stopped in surprise. The office had done some major renovations in the past five years. The reception area was a lot more sleek and modern, and there were glass partitions everywhere instead of cubicles.  
“Hillary!” A woman, who Hillary _knew_ she knew, was bustling towards her. She knew she was the head of human resources and she desperately tried to remember her name.  
“Natasha,” Hillary said, glad she remembered the name in time. “Hi.”  
“Hillary,” Natasha said, shaking Hillary’s hand. “Welcome back! You poor thing! We’re all _so glad_ that you’re alright. We were all so upset when we heard what happened.”  
“Oh, well, I’m fine now. I’m doing a lot better. But thank you,” Hillary politely said, taking a visitor’s pass from Natasha.  
“Great!” Natasha said. “Anyway, come with me. I figured we could have a quick chat in my office, pop into the partner’s meeting, and then you’ll want to visit the family law department of course, I’m sure.”  
“Sounds great,” Hillary enthusiastically replied.  
“We’ve expanded the offices into the 24th floor so my office is upstairs now...” Natasha explained, leading Hillary over to a staircase. Hillary followed the woman upstairs and down the hallway where Natasha ushered Hillary into her office.  
“Have a seat,” she said, pulling out a chair for Hillary and sitting down at her desk. “So I hate to do this but obviously we have to discuss your... _condition_. You have amnesia.”  
Hillary nodded, “I do. But apart from that, I’m otherwise okay for the most part.”  
Natasha nodded and scribbled something down on a notepad. “And is the amnesia permanent or temporary?”  
“Well...my memory could come back at anytime but the doctor’s aren’t sure when exactly I could start to remember things.”  
Natasha nodded again and took a few more notes. “Obviously, it would be marvelous if you could remember everything by July twenty-first. We have a big trial coming up that day.”  
She looked at Hillary expectantly.  
“Well...I’ll try my best,” Hillary replied, chuckling a little.  
“Well, I guess you can’t do any better than that!” Natasha responded, laughing as well. “Now let’s go and say hello to Jonah Humphrey and the others. You remember Jonah, right? The managing partner?”  
“Oh, of course!” Hillary nodded.  
She followed Natasha downstairs and down a long hallway to the boardroom. Natasha knocked on the door before pushing it open.  
“Sorry to interrupt! But Hillary’s come for a visit.”  
“Hillary! Our superstar!” Jonah Humphrey said, standing up from his seat at the head of the table. He was a tall broad-shouldered middle-aged man with thick salt and pepper hair. He walked over to Hillary, clapped her shoulder and squeezed her hand. “How are you feeling, my dear?”  
“Um...fine, thanks. Much better,” Hillary answered, trying not to get overwhelmed.  
She noticed her old boss, Samantha Davis, sitting at the conference table. She gave Hillary a pinched smile and Hillary smiled back, relieved to see a familiar face.  
“You had quite a bump to the head we understand,” Jonah Humphrey said.  
Hillary nodded, “I did, indeed.”  
“Well hurry back!” Jonah teased. “Samantha here has been standing in very well for you while you’re gone though.”  
“Well, that’s good,” Hillary said politely. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Samantha shooting her dirty looks.  
_Okay..._  
“Seriously though, Hillary. I do need to have a meeting with about our recent...discussions,” Jonah said, nodding. “We’ll have lunch when you come back for good.”  
“Absolutely!” Hillary said, matching his confident tone, even though she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.  
“Jonah,” Natasha said, lowering her voice and talking into his ear. “The doctor’s don’t know if Hillary’s amnesia is permanent or temporary. So she’ll be having some issues with her memory...”  
“Well, I have every confidence in you, Hillary. You’re brilliant. Absolutely brilliant,” Jonah said firmly. “Can we tempt you to stay for the partner’s meeting by any chance?”  
“Um...” Hillary glanced at Natasha for help.  
“She can’t stay for long today, Jonah,” Natasha said. “We’re popping in to Family Law now.”  
“Of course,” Jonah said, nodding. “Well you’re missing a treat. Doesn’t everybody love a partner’s meeting?” He laughed at his own joke.  
“Don’t you realize, I did _this_ to avoid the partner’s meeting?” Hillary joked, trying to keep the atmosphere light, as she gestured to the last remaining cut on her face. There was a huge round of laughs around the room.  
“See you in a few days, Hillary. Take care of yourself,” Jonah said, shaking Hillary’s hand.  
“Thank you,” Hillary said, smiling. “See you then.”  
She started following Natasha again.  
“So, the Family Law department has been moved to the 24th floor so we’re just going to go upstairs again,” Natasha babbled as Hillary followed her back to the staircase. “I know everyone is eager and excited to see you.”  
“Well, I can’t wait to see them!” Hillary said confidently.  
She followed Natasha upstairs and Natasha led her to a hallway with a row of offices. Natasha led her down the hallway and they stopped at the very last one. Natasha’s cell phone suddenly rang.  
“I’m so sorry, I should probably take this,” Natasha said apologetically. “But this is your office!”  
Natasha gestured excitedly to the door they were standing outside of. “Go on in and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  
Hillary nodded. She prepared herself to open the door to _her_ office. Her own private office.  
She pushed the door open and saw a young twentysomething girl doing some work at her desk. The girl gasped in shock.  
“Oh! Ms. Rodham! You’re back!”  
“Yes...” Hillary said, squinting at the girl. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve been in this accident and my memory’s a little fuzzy...”  
“Yes. They told me,” the girl said, nervously swallowing. “I’m Elizabeth Adams. Your executive assistant?”  
“Oh, hello! It’s so nice to meet you, Elizabeth. And none of this Ms. Rodham business please. It’s just Hillary.”  
“Oh, okay...” Elizabeth said, blinking uncertainly at Hillary. “Can I bring you a cup of coffee?”  
“Oh, yes! That would be lovely. Thank you so much,” Hillary answered.  
“No problem, Ms. Rod...Hillary,” Elizabeth said nervously before she left the room.  
Hillary let her eyes sweep over her new office. There was a huge mahogany desk, and a plant, and a beige couch. It was a corner office with an amazing view of central park. Hillary couldn’t believe it was all _hers_. She had really made it.  
She heard a knock on the door.  
“Come in!” She picked up a random piece of paper from the desk and pretended to be reading it.  
“Hillary!” Natasha was bustling in. “Are you making yourself at home again and settling in alright? Elizabeth told me you didn’t even recognize her! This is going to be difficult for you, isn’t it? I hadn’t realized...” Natasha frowned. “So you don’t remember... _anything?_ ”  
“Well...no. Not anything from the last five years anyways,” Hillary admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll all come back to me, sooner or later.” Hillary shrugged.  
“Well, let’s hope!” Natasha nervously said. “Now, let’s go over to your department, reacquaint yourself with the team...”  
They left Hillary’s office and walked down the hallway when suddenly Hillary noticed Betsy getting off of the elevator. She looked different than Hillary had remembered her. Her hair was shorter and a little bit grayer, and her face was thinner but it was her. She was even wearing the same jewellery she always used to wear.  
“Bets!” Hillary excitedly said, waving at her and almost dropping her purse in excitement. “It’s me, Hillary! I’m back!”  
Betsy visibly jumped and looked confused. She scanned Hillary up and down for a few moments before finally saying, “Hi, Hillary.” She stared at the remaining cuts on Hillary’s face. “How are you doing?”  
“I’m great!” Hillary enthusiastically said. “What about you? How are you doing? You look great! I love the new hair!”  
Hillary took a breath and tried to sound more composed and professional when she noticed Natasha and others in the department staring strangely at her.  
“Anyways,” Hillary cleared her throat. “Maybe we can grab a coffee later and catch up properly? With Dana and Michelle?”  
“Um, yeah. I guess so,” Betsy said, looking down at the ground.  
_What’s going on?_ Hillary thought. _Did we have some huge fight sometime over the past five years? And the others took her side? Maybe that’s why she’s not answering my phone calls. And I just don’t remember..._  
“After you, Hillary.” Hillary was snapped out of her thoughts by Natasha ushering her into the main, open floor-plan office where the Family Law offices were now situated. She noticed all the Associates, legal assistants, and paralegals eagerly staring at her.  
_This is so weird_ Hillary thought.  
She recognized Michelle, Dana, and several others she knew and remembered working with. They all looked familiar but five years older. Their hair, makeup, and clothes all looked completely different.  
“As you all know, Hillary has been unwell following her car accident,” Natasha explained to the room. “We’re delighted that she’s come for a visit today. She’s still suffering from some side effects from her injuries, particularly amnesia. But I’m sure you’ll all help her find her way around and remember things. Let’s give her a big welcome back!”  
She turned and whispered to Hillary, “Do you want to say a few motivational words to the department?”  
“Motivational words?” Hillary said, uncertainly.  
“Just something to rally the troops now that you’re back!” Natasha’s phone rang again. “I’m sorry! Excuse me.” She hurried out of the office and down the hallway.  
“Um...hi everyone,” Hillary said. She had no idea why she felt nervous because she was usually a natural at giving speeches but this was an unusual situation. “I’m looking forward to working with you all again, shortly, and keep up the great work everyone!”  
She noticed two women she didn’t recognize snickering while Michelle, Betsy, and Dana were just gaping and staring at her.  
“So...anyways...” Hillary said, feeling flustered, “Well done everybody...you’re all doing a great job...”  
“So are you back now, Hillary?” demanded someone Hillary didn’t recognize.  
“I will be in a few days—”  
“I need my expenses form signed immediately!”  
“Me too!” Echoed about six other people.  
“Have you spoken to Jonah about the Brown’s divorce?” A woman Hillary remembered, Melody, asked her, coming forward, frowning. “His mistress came forward and ugh, it’s a disaster...”  
Suddenly everyone in the room started swarming Hillary and shooting questions at her left and right. She couldn’t even follow along, let alone figure out what some of them meant or were talking about.  
“I don’t know! I’m really sorry!” Hillary said, desperately. “I don’t remember...I’ll see you all later!”  
Breathing hard, she backed away, walked down the hallway and into her own office where she slammed the door shut. She took a few deep breaths.  
_That was crazy_ Hillary thought. _What was all that about?_  
There was a knock on the door.  
“Hello?” Hillary called out, still trying to calm herself down.  
“Hi!” Elizabeth said, carrying Hillary’s coffee in one hand and a huge pile of letters and documents in the other. “Sorry to bother you, Hillary, but while you’re here, could you maybe just take a quick look at these? You need to get back to Martha Burton about the custody hearing for her son, you have expense reports to review and sign off on, and some lady named Claire Nicholson has called several times for you. She said she hopes you can resume discussions soon...”  
Elizabeth was smiling and holding out a pen towards Hillary.  
“Um, I can’t sign or authorize anything,” Hillary said, frantically. “I’ve never even heard of Martha Burton or Claire Nicholson. I don’t remember any of this!”  
“Oh, okay...” Elizabeth said, nervously, gently setting the pile of papers down on Hillary’s desk. “Well, who’s going to run the Family Law department, then? Samantha?”  
“No! I mean...I can do it. It’s my job. I’ll do it. I just need some time...” Hillary tried pulling herself together. “Leave it all with me and I’ll read through it this weekend. I’m sure it’ll all come back to me.”  
“Okay,” Elizabeth replied with a sigh of relief. “And your coffee Ms. Rodham...I mean Hillary.” She put a cup of steaming hot cup of coffee in front of Hillary.  
“Thank you Elizabeth,” Hillary said and nodded to the pile of papers that Elizabeth had left for her. “I’ll go through these and get back to you on Monday.”  
Elizabeth nodded, “Is that everything?”  
“For now, yes,” Hillary answered. “Thank you again.”  
Elizabeth nodded and quickly left the room.  
Hillary picked up a piece of paper from the top of the pile. She tried reading it but her head was swimming with all the new information and she couldn’t concentrate.  
She put her head in her hands. She didn’t know how she was going to do this. This new position was a lot tougher than she had anticipated.  
There was another knock at the door. Hillary shot up in her chair and grabbed another random piece of paper and pretended to be reading it.  
“Come in!”  
“Everything okay, Hillary?” It was Samantha, carrying a water bottle. She leaned against the doorframe of Hillary’s office.  
“Yes! Everything’s great! I thought you were in a partner’s meeting?”  
“We’ve taken our lunch break.”  
Hillary had never really gotten along with Samantha before, even though Samantha used to be her boss.  
“Back at it already?” Samantha remarked, staring at the pile of papers on Hillary’s desk.  
“Kind of,” Hillary answered, weakly smiling at Samantha, but Samantha didn’t return the smile.  
“Have you decided what to do about the Burton case yet? She kept calling me all day yesterday.”  
“Well...” Hillary hesitated. “Maybe...I’m not quite...” she felt her face getting warm and flushed. “The thing is, I’ve had some memory loss since the car accident...”  
“Oh my God,” Samantha said, snickering, her mouth opening in shock. “You don’t know who Martha Burton _is_ or what the case is about, do you?”  
Hillary started frantically racking her brain but...nothing. As usual.  
“I um...well, no. But if you could maybe just remind me?”  
Samantha ignored Hillary and waltzed straight into Hillary’s office, planting herself squarely across from Hillary.  
“So...let me get this straight. You remember absolutely _nothing?_ ” Samantha asked.  
“I remember some things!” Hillary insisted, as the realization dawned on her that Samantha probably wanted her job. Somehow Hillary had overtaken Samantha sometime during the past five years...of course Samantha would be jealous and resentful. “Just...the last five years is pretty blank.”  
“The last _five_ years?” Samantha said, before hysterically laughing. “I’m sorry, Hillary, but in the law, five years is a lifetime. You know that as well as I do.”  
“Well, I’ll pick everything up again, I’m sure,” Hillary argued. “The doctors said everything might come back to me. It could be at any time.”  
“Or you might not,” Samantha answered, shrugging. “That must be scary for you, Hillary. That’s there’s going to be this big gap in your memory forever.”  
Hillary glared at Samantha with as much strength as she could muster. She wasn’t going to get to Hillary that easily.  
_Nice try_ Hillary thought.  
“I’m sure I’ll be back to normal shortly,” Hillary said shortly. “Back to work, running the department. Business as usual. I had a great conversation with Jonah Humphrey earlier.”  
“Okay...” Samantha said, tapping her fingers against Hillary’s desk. “And what do you want to about Martha Burton?”  
Hillary sighed when she realized she had been outmaneuvered. There was nothing she could say about that particular case and Samantha knew it.  
She shuffled papers on her desk, playing for time, before finally saying, “Well, maybe...you could make the decision on that?”  
“Gladly,” Samantha said, giving Hillary a patronizing smile. “I’ll take care of it. You just take care of yourself, Hillary. Get better, take off as much time as you need. Don’t rush back to work at all. There’s no need to worry about a thing!”  
“Well...thank you,” Hillary forced herself not to roll her eyes at Samantha and faked a smile. “I appreciate it, Samantha.”  
“How’s everything going?” Natasha suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Are you two catching up with things?”  
“Yes. Samantha here is being _very_ helpful,” Hillary answered through gritted teeth.  
“Anything I can do to help!” Samantha said, with a wink at Hillary.  
“Great!” Natasha chirped. “Now, Hillary, I have to get going, I have a meeting, but I can walk you out if you need to get going.”  
“Don’t worry about it, Natasha, but thank you,” Hillary said, picking up some of the paperwork. “I’m going to stay for a bit and have a look at some of this paperwork.”  
She _wasn’t_ leaving without talking to Betsy first.  
“Wonderful!” Natasha trilled. “Well, it was great to see you, Hillary. And let’s talk sometime next week about when you want to return properly. Call me anytime.”  
“Will do!” Hillary chirped.  
Natasha and Samantha walked away and Hillary could overhear Samantha.  
“Natasha, can we meet later? We need to discuss this situation. With all due respect to Hillary...”  
Hillary walked over to the doorway of her office and poked her head out.  
“She’s _clearly_ not fit to lead this department let alone to be a _partner_ at this firm...”  
Hillary rolled her eyes.  
_That bitch didn’t even wait until she was out of earshot_ she thought.  
She walked back over to her desk and slumped down into her chair. She needed to talk to somebody. Betsy. She lifted the phone and dialed Betsy’s office extension, hoping they hadn’t changed the system.  
“Family Law, Betsy Ebeling speaking.”  
“Betsy! It’s me!” Hillary said. “Hillary. Listen. Can we talk?”  
“Sure,” Betsy said in a formal tone. “Do you want me to come in and see you now or do I need to make an appointment with Elizabeth first?”  
Hillary felt her heart sink. Betsy sounded so formal and...remote.  
“I just meant we could have a casual chat! Unless you’re busy right now...”  
“I was about to take my lunch break actually,” Betsy coldly replied.  
“Well, I’ll join you!” Hillary eagerly said. “Like old times! I’m dying for a caramel latte actually. And we could go to that place that had the great Cobb salads!”  
“Hillary...”  
“Betsy, I really _really_ need to speak to you, okay?” Hillary said, clutching the phone’s handset tighter. “I don’t remember _anything_ and its freaking me out. The whole situation. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be right out and we can go to lunch.”  
She hung up the phone and grabbed a random piece of scrap paper. She hesitated before scrawling, “Please deal with all of these, Samantha. Many thanks, Hillary.” She left the note on top of the pile of paperwork.  
She knew she was playing right into Samantha’s hand but all she cared about at that moment was seeing her friends and trying to figure out what had happened between her and Betsy over the past five years.  
She grabbed her purse and briefcase, hurried out of her office, down the hallway, past Elizabeth’s desk and into the main Family Law department.  
“Hi, Hillary,” A nearby legal assistant said. “Did you need something?”  
“No, its okay, thanks. I was just going to meet Betsy for lunch...”  
She scanned the Family Law department for Betsy but she didn’t see her anywhere. Or Michelle. Or Dana.  
“Oh, I think you just missed them, actually...” the legal assistant said, looking surprised.  
“Oh...” Hillary tried to hide her disappointment. “Thanks. Maybe they meant to meet me in the reception area.”  
She turned on her heels, and walked as fast as she could in her stilettos –just in time to see Dana disappearing into the elevator.  
“Wait! I’m coming! Dana!” Hillary ran towards the elevator but the doors were already closing.  
_She heard me. I know she heard me_ Hillary thought.  
She frantically pressed the button for the elevator and wondered what the _fuck_ had happened between her and her friends over the past five years.  
_They knew I was coming. Are they avoiding me? We’re friends. Right? I know I’m their boss now...but you can be friends with your boss...right?_ Hillary thought.  
The elevator finally came and when she arrived on the first floor and walked into the office building’s main lobby, the first thing she saw was Dana and Michelle heading out the main doors, with Betsy walking slightly ahead of them.  
“Wait! Guys! I’m coming!” Hillary desperately called, half-running towards them and finally catching up with them on the building’s front steps.  
“Oh, hi, Hillary,” Betsy said, covering her mouth, and trying not to laugh.  
Hillary did suppose she looked a bit ridiculous, running in her pantsuit and heels and her hair in its power bun.  
“I thought we were going to have lunch together. I told you I was on my way!” Hillary insisted.  
There was silence and nobody met Hillary’s eye. Michelle was touching her hair which Hillary recognized as one of her nervous habits. Dana was cleaning her glasses with her shirt.  
“What’s going on?” Hillary asked, trying to sound relaxed but inside she was panicking. “Betsy, why didn’t you return any of my messages? Is there some kind of an...issue?”  
No one spoke.  
“You guys,” Hillary said, trying to smile. “Please. Help me out a bit. I have amnesia. I don’t remember anything. Did we have a fight or something?”  
“No,” Betsy said, shrugging.  
“Well, then I don’t understand,” Hillary replied. “The last thing I remember is we were best friends. The last memory I have is of us going out on a Friday night. We did tequila shots and sang karaoke...remember?”  
“That was a _long_ time ago, Hillary,” Betsy said, glancing at Dana.  
“So what’s happened since then?” Hillary asked, confused.  
Betsy sighed and shrugged. “Look, Hillary. Let’s just leave it. You’ve been in this accident, you’re still recovering. We don’t want to upset you.”  
“Yeah, let’s just go get a sandwich together,” Michelle said.  
“What are you doing?” Betsy hissed at Michelle.  
Michelle shrugged, “Humor her.”  
“Okay, there’s no need to patronize me!” Hillary snapped. “Forget about the accident. Tell me the truth. I can handle it. I’m a big girl.” She looked at her friends with desperation. “If we didn’t have a fight, then what happened? What’s wrong?”  
“Hillary, nothing happened,” Betsy answered, sounding awkward. “It’s just...we don’t really hang out with you anymore. We’re not friends anymore. We drifted apart.”  
“But why not?” Hillary asked, feeling her heart thudding. “Is it because I’m your boss now?”  
“It’s not because you’re the _boss_ per say. That wouldn’t matter if you weren’t...” Betsy answered, not being able to look at Hillary. “If I’m being honest you’re a bit of a ...”  
“A what?” Hillary asked. “You can tell me.”  
Betsy shrugged, “A snob.”  
“More like a bitch boss from hell,” Michelle muttered.  
_Bitch boss from hell? Me?_ Hillary thought.  
“I...I don’t understand,” Hillary stammered. “I’m not a good boss?”  
“Oh, you’re fantastic,” Dana answered sarcastically. “We get in trouble if we’re five minutes late. You time our breaks. You scrutinize our expense reports...oh it’s a bundle of fun down in Family Law!”  
“But I would never...That’s not what I’m like—”  
“Yes. It is,” Dana said, cutting off Hillary.  
Betsy shrugged, “You’re the one who asked, Hillary. That’s why we don’t hang out anymore. You do your own thing and we do ours.”  
“But I can’t be a bitch!” Hillary said, her voice trembling. She was willing herself not to cry. “I’m your friend! Hillary! We have fun together! We go dancing together, we get drunk...”  
Dana and Betsy exchanged looks.  
“Hillary,” Betsy gently said. “You’re our boss. We do what you say. But we don’t have lunch together. And we don’t hang out outside of work anymore.” She sighed. “Look, feel free to come with us today if you really want to...”  
“No, that’s okay,” Hillary said, feeling incredibly hurt and stung. “But thanks...Um, enjoy your lunch break, I guess.”  
With shaky legs and trembling hands she turned around and walked away.

To Be Continued...


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for your comments and reviews! I really appreciate them and it does keep me motivated to keep working on this story. Things are really going to start to ramp up in the story after this chapter!  
> 

Hillary couldn’t believe what she had heard and experienced earlier that day. She had sat in the back of a cab on her way home from the office numb with shock. Somehow she had managed to make it through the rest of her day seemingly calm and collected. She had coordinated with Lucinda and the caterers about the dinner party her and Derek were hosting that night and she had briefly spoken with her mom on the phone about how things had been going. Now she was taking a shower and getting ready for the party. Her thoughts kept circulating around in her brain.  
_I’m a boss bitch from hell. My friends hate me. Samantha is after my job. What the fuck is going on? Have I really turned into a bitch over the last five years? How? And why?_  
Hillary thought as she lathered soap all over her body. It was times like these she missed Bill. She could have always gone to him with any problems she may have and he always knew the right things to say to her that would make her feel better. She sadly sighed to herself.  
After a while, she decided to get out of the shower and started toweling herself dry. She didn’t have time to obsess anymore about what had happened that day. She had a dinner party to host.  
She wrapped herself in a fresh, fluffy, clean white towel and walked into her humongous closet. She picked out a black cocktail dress, a matching black lacy bra and panties set, and a pair of black high heeled pumps.  
As she walked back into the bedroom she dropped her towel when suddenly there was a knock on the bedroom door.  
“Hi, Hillary. Can I come in?”  
It was Derek.  
“Um, just a moment!” Hillary called, not wanting him to see her naked. She realized she was being ridiculous, he was her husband and had probably seen her naked thousands of times before, but she was still uncomfortable. She quickly walked into her closet and put on a silky black nightgown and a matching silk black robe.  
“Come in!” She called, as she started frantically picking up the clothes she had left scattered around the bedroom floor when she had discarded them earlier before getting in the shower. One thing she had learned quickly about Derek was that he didn’t like mess or for things to be out of place at all.  
“Everything is all set to go for dinner downstairs, honey,” Derek commented as he walked into Hillary’s bedroom.  
“Oh, wonderful,” Hillary remarked.  
Derek frowned, “Why are your clothes all over the floor? Dirty clothes go in the laundry hamper in your closet for Lucinda.”  
“Oh...er right. I forgot,” Hillary said nervously.  
“It’s alright,” Derek said. “You’re still adjusting. How was work?”  
“It was great!” Hillary lied, managing to fake a smile and a cheery tone. “I saw Jonah Humphrey and the family law department, and my friends...”  
She stopped. Could she even call them her friends anymore?  
“Great,” Derek said but Hillary wasn’t sure if he was really listening or not. “Now, I’ll let you get ready. See you in a bit, sweetheart.”  
“Wait,” Hillary suddenly said. “Derek?”  
She bit her lip. She didn’t want to talk to Derek about this but he was her husband after all. If there was somebody she could confide in, and get reassurance and comfort from, it would be him, right?”  
“Yes?” Derek asked.  
“Today my friends said...” she stopped, she didn’t even want to say it. “They said I was a bitch. Is that true?”  
Derek started laughing, “Of course you’re not a bitch, sweetheart.”  
“Really?” Hillary asked. “So, I’m not some horrible bitch boss from hell?”  
“Nope,” Derek said, shaking his head. “There’s no way you could be horrible. Or a bitch from hell.”  
Hillary sighed in relief. Derek sounded pretty confident and sure of himself in his answer. There had to be some perfectly reasonable explanation for everything, Hillary thought.  
“I guess you are...tough though,” Derek suddenly said.  
“Tough? In a good way?” Hillary asked. She didn’t like the way Derek made it sound but she had always been a strong and confident woman. “Like tough...but still a friendly and nice person?”  
Derek shrugged, “You’re confident, driven, focused. You want your department to succeed and you want to win cases. You’re a great boss.” He smiled at her. “Now, I’m going to go check on the caterers one last time so I’ll see you in a bit. You need to get dressed.”  
He left Hillary’s room and Hillary just felt more alarmed than ever, and not reassured at all. Wasn’t “tough” just another way of saying “bitch boss from hell”?  
***  
An hour later, Hillary had felt her spirits lift slightly. She had been putting things in perspective while she had been getting ready for the party. Whatever the truth was with what had happened between Hillary and her friends, she wasn’t going to let it get to her and affect her enjoyment of the evening. She had put some music on and was currently doing her makeup and bopping along to the pop song that was playing. She had never owned so much makeup before in her life. She had accessorized her clothes with a matching diamond necklace and earrings set. And she had even poured herself a glass of Chardonnay which was making her feel much more relaxed. 

Maybe her life wasn’t perfect and maybe she had had a falling out with her friends; maybe Samantha was after her job and she didn’t know what was going on at work or anything about the department’s current cases, but she could re-learn her job and catch up on the cases. She could try to rebuild her friendships with Betsy, Dana, and Michelle. As Hillary applied her lipstick she smiled at herself in the mirror. She was still incredibly lucky and blessed to have the life she did even if it was a completely different life than she had ever imagined for herself. But she still had a great husband, a wonderful daughter, and a beautiful apartment. Tonight the place somehow looked even more stunning than usual. There were flower arrangements everywhere and the dining room table was beautifully set.  
Derek had told her it was going to be a “casual dinner” so Hillary was wondering what they did for more formal occasions. Something even grander than what they were doing tonight?  
Hillary laughed to herself after she blotted her lipstick. She still couldn’t believe what her life had become.  
When she finished applying her makeup she couldn’t help staring at herself in the mirror. Her hair was in an up-do; her black cocktail dress fit her amazingly and hugged her curves in all the right places.  
She was admiring her diamond necklace in the mirror when Derek walked into her bedroom in his suit.  
“Wow, Hillary. You look amazing, babe,” he complimented, coming up behind her.  
“Thanks! So do you,” Hillary replied, glowing with pleasure.  
“One thing though. I found your briefcase in the hallway. Is that a good place for it?” Derek didn’t stop smiling but Hillary could hear the annoyance in his voice. She hadn’t even realized she left it there; she had been so preoccupied with what had happened with Betsy and her other friends when she had gotten home.  
“I’ll move it,” Hillary said, blushing. “Sorry about that.”  
“Thanks,” Derek said, nodding. “But first, try this.” He handed Hillary a small glass of red wine. “We bought it on our last trip to France. I’d like your opinion.”  
“Sure,” Hillary said, trying to sound confident. She didn’t know anything about wine, let alone red wine. She was more of a white wine drinker.  
She took a small sip and swilled it around in her mouth. She swirled the wine glass around a little like she had seen people do while tasting wine in the movies, trying to buy some time.  
“I think its abso—”  
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Derek asked, cutting Hillary off. “Totally off.”  
“Off, um, yes. Totally,” Hillary agreed, nodding, trying to play along. “Just awful.”  
Derek nodded, “I need to go sort out this wine situation.”  
“Hillary nodded, “I’ll help!”  
“Great!” Derek said enthusiastically.  
Hillary followed Derek downstairs. A few guests had already arrived and were drinking vodka martinis at the bar area in the living room.  
Hillary thought that she absolutely _had_ to have Betsy and the other girls over for a party sometime. It was a fantastic bar area and living room. Perfect for hosting parties. Her friends would love it. But suddenly Hillary felt her stomach drop when she remembered. That probably wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Or perhaps ever.  
But Hillary wasn’t going to give up. They were her _friends_. She was going to figure out, one way or another, what had happened between them. And she was determined to make up with them and make things right again. And she was also determined not to let what happened that day ruin her night or her enjoyment of the party.  
***  
Hillary had been trying to memorize each guest’s name and face since she didn’t know anyone at the party besides Derek and Whitney, but that was proving to be difficult. Most of the men were wearing almost identical suits and most of them had even more identical young blonde trophy wives.  
“Hillary!” An older gentleman who she didn’t recognize was reaching his arms out to her as if he was going to hug her.  
“Oh!” Hillary said, surprised as he _did_ hug her.  
_What the fuck?_ Hillary thought.  
“This is Joe Biden and his wife Jill,” Derek introduced her when Joe pulled away.  
“We were so sorry to hear about the accident, Hillary,” Joe said. “How are you feeling now?”  
Hillary shrugged, “Aside from the memory loss, I’m doing great. Can’t complain.”  
Hillary sipped her wine and smiled as Derek, Joe, and Jill started reminiscing about some vacation to Hawaii that apparently, the two couples had taken together at some point during the last four years. A vacation that obviously Hillary had no memory of. Whitney had introduced her husband Dan to Hillary earlier that evening (who didn’t at all seem like the monster Whitney had described, he was just a regular guy in a suit) but then the two of them had rushed off somewhere and Hillary hadn’t seen them again since.  
Hillary was starting to feel a little bit buzzed and lightheaded from the wine. Everything with the party seemed to be under control. Lucinda was serving drinks and the caterers were handing out appetizers that were circulating around the party on giant trays. Hillary quietly murmured an excuse to Joe, Jill, and Derek and slipped away from the conversation. She let herself out onto the massive outside terrace. She needed some air.  
She took a few deep breaths and stared out over the New York City skyline, taking in the beautiful view of the city she loved. Her life didn’t feel real. She felt like a character in a movie or something.  
“Sweetheart! There you are! Look who’s here!”  
Hillary turned around and saw Derek walking out onto the terrace with someone following behind him.  
“Hi,” Hillary said, smiling at Derek. “I was just getting some air.”  
“Bill’s here,” Derek said.  
Hillary felt her breath catch in her throat as Bill came into view. He was wearing dark jeans with a white dress shirt and black suit jacket.  
“Hi, Hillary,” Bill said.  
Hillary could tell that Bill was checking her out and admiring her in her dress. It was like he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She looked over at Derek but he didn’t even seem to notice.  
“You invited Bill,” Hillary remarked.  
“Of course I did,” Derek said like it wasn’t out of the ordinary. “He’s my friend and co-worker. And you two obviously know each other.” Derek chuckled. “Bill’s the creative spirit of my company. I may have the business and financial sense but Bill has the talent to bring my properties to life.”  
“Wonderful,” Hillary remarked, trying to sound enthused. She had to admit, she was _relieved_ to see another familiar face at the party. Especially somebody she knew so well like Bill.  
“Thanks again for the other day, Bill,” Hillary said, smiling at him. “You really saved my ass.” She turned to Derek. “I didn’t tell you but when Bill came to drop off those papers the other day he helped me park the car when it was delivered.”  
“It was no problem,” Bill said, taking a sip of his drink. “So, you still don’t remember anything?”  
“Nope. Nothing,” Hillary said, shaking her head.  
“That must be strange for you,” Bill remarked, taking another sip of his drink.  
Hillary shrugged, “It is. But I’m getting used to it. I’m starting to slowly re-learn things about my life. And Derek has been _so_ helpful. He’s made me a marriage manual to help me remember. It has sections and everything.”  
“A manual?” Bill said, and Hillary could tell he was trying to stifle a laugh. “Seriously? A manual?”  
“Yes, a manual,” Hillary reiterated. She eyed Bill suspiciously. He wasn’t acting like his usual self.  
“Ah, there’s Jonathan,” Derek said. He wasn’t even listening to their conversation. “I’m going to go say hello. Excuse me.”  
He went back inside the apartment, leaving Bill and Hillary alone on the terrace.  
“What’s wrong with a marriage manual?” Hillary demanded. She was suddenly feeling very irritated with Bill for reasons she couldn’t even explain.  
“No, no, nothing at all,” Bill said shaking his head. “It’s a good idea. Because otherwise how else would you know when you were supposed to kiss each other?”  
“Exactly! Derek put it in a whole section on—” Hillary paused. Now Bill _really_ was laughing. Hillary was furious. Did he think her memory loss was _funny_?  
“The manual covers all kinds of areas. And it’s been very helpful for the both of us,” she said. “You know, it’s difficult for Derek, too, having to be married to someone who doesn’t remember the first thing about him! Imagine if you were him. Or perhaps you hadn’t appreciated that?”  
Bill’s face suddenly went stoic and there was silence between the two of them.  
“Believe me I can appreciate it,” Bill finally dryly said after a few moments of silence between them.  
He finished his drink and Hillary could tell he was about to speak again but he changed his mind when the sliding glass doors that led out to the terrace opened and Whitney walked outside.  
“Hill!” Whitney tottered on her heels, a glass of champagne in one hand and her clutch purse in the other. “Fantastic appetizers!”  
“Oh...thank you,” Hillary politely said. She felt embarrassed for receiving a compliment for something she hadn’t even made herself. “I haven’t had a chance to eat any yet. Do they taste good?”  
“I’m not sure. I’m still doing my detox,” Whitney answered, looking confused. “But they _look_ amazing anyways. And Derek just told me to tell you two that we’re about to sit down for dinner.”  
“Oh, no, I just left him to it,” Hillary suddenly realized. “We’d better go in. I should help him. You two know each other right?” Hillary asked as the three of them started heading back inside.  
“Sure,” Bill said.  
“Bill and I are _old_ friends,” Whitney said in a fake tone of voice, giving Bill a forced smile. “Aren’t we, Bill?”  
“See you. Nice talking to you, Hillary,” Bill said, ignoring Whitney. He picked up his pace and disappeared inside the apartment.  
“Ugh, what a horrible man,” Whitney remarked, making a face behind Bill’s back.  
“I don’t know what your problem with him is,” Hillary commented. Even though she was a little bit aggravated with Bill at that particular moment, she still knew what an amazing man he was. “Derek seems to like him?”  
“Oh, Derek likes him alright,” Whitney said, her voice full of disdain. “And Dan acts as if the sun rises and sets on him. He’s so creative and one of New York’s best architects and blah blah blah,” she rolled her eyes. “I know he’s your ex-husband, Hillary, but truth be told, he’s the rudest man I’ve ever met. When I asked him to donate to my charity last year, he refused. He _laughed_ at me.”  
“He laughed?” Hillary asked, shocked. That didn’t sound like Bill at all. He loved giving to worthy causes. “That’s awful, Whitney. I’m so sorry. What was the charity?”  
“We were trying to start an Apple a Day initiative,” Whitney said, proudly. “We went to the inner cities, and gave out apples to the schoolchildren. Apples are full of nutrients! Great idea, right?”  
“Um...yes, a great idea,” Hillary said, cautiously, not wanting to hurt Whitney’s feelings. “Did it work out?”  
“Well, it started off great,” Whitney said before rolling her eyes. “We gave out thousands of apples and had T-shirts made and everything. It was really fun! Until city council started sending us letters about apples being abandoned in the street and causing litter.” Whitney rolled her eyes again.  
Okay now Hillary wanted to laugh but she bit her lip to keep herself from starting to chuckle.  
“You know, Hillary, that’s the problem with charity work sometimes,” Whitney said. “The stupid local bureaucrats.”  
They were back inside now and Hillary stared at the crowd. Twenty faces she didn’t recognize laughing and talking with each other.  
“You look panicked Hillary but don’t worry,” Whitney said, squeezing Hillary’s hand. “Derek and I came up with a plan. Everyone’s going to stand up and introduce themselves to you at dinner.” She frowned. “Sweetie, you look terrified.”  
“No!” Hillary forced a smile. “I’m not terrified! I’m fine.”  
But inside she was freaking out. She found her place at the table and sat down beside Derek.  
_This feels like a dream_ Hillary thought. _These people are apparently my friends and they all know me. But I’ve never even SEEN them before in my life._  
“Hillary, sweetheart,” An older Eastern European woman whispered in her ear. “Can I have a word? I was with you all day on May thirty-first, okay?”  
“Were you?” Hillary asked blankly.  
“Yes. If David asks. David, my husband?” She gestured to a man who Hillary could vaguely remember making small talk with earlier in the evening.  
“Oh, right,” Hillary said, trying to organize her thoughts. “Were we actually together?”  
“Of course, darling,” she winked at Hillary and squeezed her shoulder. “Of course we were.”  
She wandered off to her seat.  
Bill sat down across from Hillary and smirked at her; she tried to resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. What was his problem tonight?  
“Ladies and gentleman,” Derek said, standing up from his seat. The chatter died down and everyone took their seats at the dinner table. “Welcome to our home. Hillary and I couldn’t be happier to host you and we’re so glad you could join us tonight.”  
All eyes went to Hillary and she gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile.  
“As you all know, Hillary was recently in a car accident and has been suffering from some memory loss because of a head injury she sustained in the crash,” Derek explained. “So what I want to propose to you is that you reintroduce yourselves to Hillary tonight. Stand up, state your name, and maybe tell a story of a memorable event that you had with Hillary in the past.”  
“Is this supposed to trigger Hillary’s memory?” one of the guests asked Derek.  
Derek shrugged, “No one knows. It could. It’s worth a shot so we have to try. Who wants to start?”  
“Me!” Whitney excitedly said, jumping to her feet. “Hillary, I’m your best friend, Whitney, which you already knew! And our memorable event is the time we both got bikini waxes together and the girl got a little bit carried away...” she started giggling. “Oh my God, your _face_...”  
“What happened?” Asked the girl sitting beside Whitney.  
“I can’t say it in public!” Whitney admonished. “But believe me Hill, it was _super_ memorable.”  
She gave a big beaming smile to everybody at the table and then sat back down.  
“Okay then,” Derek said, sounding taken aback. “Who’s next? Carly?”  
A young thirtysomething girl stood up.  
“Hi Hillary,” she said, smiling. “I’m Carly. And my most memorable event with you would be your wedding day.”  
“Aww!” Hillary said, surprised and touched. “Wow.”  
“It was a really beautiful day,” Carly gushed. “I thought ‘That’s what I want my wedding to be like.’ I actually thought Ryan would propose to me that night...but he didn’t.” She frowned.  
“Jesus, Carly,” said the guy sitting beside her. “Don’t start this again.”  
“No, it’s fine! We’re engaged now!” She said, smiling at Hillary and flashing her diamond ring at the table. “I’m going to get Vera Wang to make me the exact same dress that you wore!”  
“Well done, Carly!” Derek chimed in, cutting her off. “Let’s move on. Who’s next? Bill?”  
Across the table from Hillary, Bill stood up.  
“Hello,” Bill said with his familiar southern drawl. “I’m Bill. I’m Hillary’s ex-husband actually.”  
He stopped talking.  
“So, Bill?” Derek asked. “What’s your memorable event with Hillary from the last five years?”  
Bill stared at Hillary for several moments with his intense gaze. Hillary found herself wondering what he was going to say. He rubbed his neck and took a sip of his wine, as if he was thinking hard. Eventually he shrugged.  
“Nothing is coming to mind.”  
“Nothing,” Hillary said, feeling stung and hurt. She was stunned.  
“It can be anything at all!” Derek encouraged Bill. “Just some special moment the two of you shared. Maybe something funny that happened one time?”  
Everyone was intently watching Bill. He frowned and then shrugged again.  
“I don’t recall anything in particular,” he said.  
“There must be _something_ , Bill,” Carly said. “It might trigger her memory!”  
“I doubt that,” Bill said, giving the girl a half-smile.  
“Well, never mind then,” Derek said, sounding impatient. “It’s not important. Let’s move on."

By the time everyone had gone around the table and recounted an anecdote or funny story, Hillary had forgotten who the first people were.  
_I guess it’s a start though_ Hillary thought to herself, trying to remain optimistic.  
Lucinda and the caterers had served some kind of a mixed greens salad, baked chicken breast and roasted vegetables, and flourless chocolate cake for dessert. Hillary had purposefully ignored Bill during the dinner and had had a pleasant conversation with the Biden’s instead.  
And before she knew it, the servers were clearing the plates and Lucinda was going around the table taking coffee orders.  
“I’ll make the coffee,” Hillary offered, getting up. “You’ve done so much tonight, Lucinda. Go take a break. You deserve it.”  
“Hillary,” Derek said, laughing. “That’s not necessary.”  
“It’s no trouble at all. I don’t mind,” Hillary insisted. She had been feeling pretty useless all night, watching the caterers, servers, and Lucinda do all the work that night at her own party in her own home. “Lucinda, sit down and put your feet up. Have a cookie or watch some television or something. Relax. I insist. It’s just coffee. I can make a few cups of coffee.”  
Lucinda looked perplexed, “I’ll go make the beds, Miss. Hillary.”  
_That’s not exactly what I meant by taking a break but okay_ Hillary thought. She shrugged to herself.  
Hillary smiled around the table, “So who would like coffee? Raise your hands.” She started counting the hands. “And anybody for tea?”  
“I’ll help you,” Bill offered, standing up and pushing his chair back.  
“Oh!” Hillary said, taken aback. “Well...alright. Thanks, Bill.”  
She was still mad at him but she wasn’t about to turn down his help. She walked into the kitchen and started the coffee pot. Then she started looking in the cupboards for coffee cups.  
_Maybe we have special coffee cups for dinner parties?_ She thought.  
She consulted the marriage manual but she didn’t find anything.  
Meanwhile, Bill was pacing around the kitchen and judging from the way his face looked, he was stuck in intense thought. He wasn’t helping Hillary with the coffee at all.  
“Are you alright, Bill?” Hillary asked, feeling slightly irritated. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me? I don’t suppose you know what coffee cups I’m supposed to use, do you?”  
It was as if Bill hadn’t even heard the question, he just kept pacing around.  
“Hello? Earth to Bill?” Hillary said, waving her hand at him.  
Finally he stopped pacing and gave Hillary an intense stare with an even stranger expression on his face. An expression Hillary had never seen on him in twenty years of marriage.  
“I don’t know how to tell you this so I’m just going to come out and say it,” he suddenly said, taking a deep breath. He walked closer to Hillary, studied her face, and gently rested his left hand on her cheek.  
Hillary felt a spark of electricity run through her from his touch.  
“You really don’t remember, Hilly? This isn’t some kind of a game you’re playing with me?”  
“Remember _what?_ ” Hillary asked, totally bewildered. “Why would I make my memory loss up? What would I have to gain from that?”  
“Okay, okay,” Bill said. He dropped his hand from Hillary’s cheek and resumed his pacing.  
Finally he stopped and looked at Hillary again. “Here’s the thing, Hillary. I love you.”  
“What?” Hillary asked, totally confused. She had to admit that she still loved Bill too obviously, but she was married to somebody else now so she had been trying to push those feelings for Bill aside.  
“And you love me,” Bill continued. “We’re lovers, Hillary. We’ve been having an affair together for the past eight months.” 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) Let me know what you think of the new twist!


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating now because I'm not sure if I would get a chance to this weekend and I didn't want to leave you guys hanging on the last cliffhanger for too long ;) Enjoy!

“Hill!” Whitney suddenly burst into the kitchen. “Two more orders for tea and two decaf coffees for me and Dan please.”  
“Coming right up!” Hillary managed to squeak out, not yet being able to process the bombshell Bill had just told her.   
Whitney disappeared and Bill and Hillary were alone in the kitchen again. There was silence between them. The most intense silence either of them had ever experienced, aside from the distant chatter from the party guests in the other room. Hillary was paralyzed. She kept looking between where the marriage manual was lying on the kitchen table and Bill. As if the answer to what had just happened was in the manual.   
Bill followed her gaze.   
“I’m guessing I’m not in the marriage manual,” he deadpanned dryly.   
“I...I don’t understand,” Hillary said, trying to regain her composure. “What do you mean we’ve been having an affair?”  
“We’ve been seeing each other for the past eight months,” Bill repeated, his intense gaze fixed on Hillary. “You’re planning to leave Derek to get back together with me.”  
Hillary can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, Bill...but leave Derek? To get back together with you? We’re divorced, Bill. We must have gotten divorced for a good reason.”  
Before Bill can say anything, a man walked into the kitchen.   
“Hi Hillary! May I have some more water, please?”  
“Here!” Hillary said, giving him an entire bottle from the fridge. The man left and Bill put his hands in his pockets.   
“You were about to tell Derek you were leaving him. You had met with a divorce attorney,” Bill started speaking faster. “We’d made plans. You were going to file for a legal separation from him. We had even started looking at houses together in upstate New York for fun.” He paused, exhaled, and then frowned. “But then...the accident happened.”   
Hillary could usually tell the difference between when Bill was lying and telling the truth and he seemed deadly serious.   
“But...but,” Hillary sputtered. “That’s ridiculous, Bill!”  
“Ridiculous?” Bill said, looking like he was taken aback.   
“Yes, ridiculous! You know I’m not the unfaithful type, Bill. Why would I want to ruin my marriage to Derek? He’s a fantastic husband, at least I _think_ he is anyways. I’m happy—”  
“You’re not happy with Derek,” Bill interrupted her. “Trust me, Hillary. You’re miserable in your marriage.”  
“Of course I’m happy with Derek!” Hillary insisted. “He’s wonderful! He’s the perfect husband!”  
“ _Perfect_?” Bill scoffed. Hillary could tell he had to stop himself from going further. “Hillary, he’s not perfect. Believe me.”  
“Well, he’s close enough to perfect,” Hillary rambled, suddenly feeling distressed. Who did Bill think he was, interrupting her dinner party to claim that they were having an affair?   
“I’m sorry, Bill but I just don’t believe you. I would never have an affair, okay? You might!” She spat at him. “But I would never. Everyone keeps telling me that Derek and I have a dream marriage. I have a dream life!”   
“A dream life?” Bill said, rubbing his forehead and gathering his thoughts. “You think you have a dream life?”  
“Of course! Look around!” She swung her arms around. “Look at this place! At this apartment! Look at Derek! Everything is fantastic! Why would I want to throw it all away?”  
She was _furious_ with Bill at this point and wanted to throw her new life in his face.   
She could tell that Bill was about to respond but suddenly Derek walked into the kitchen.   
“Babe,” he beamed at her from the doorway. “How are those coffees coming? People are waiting.”  
“They’re...they’re on their way,” Hillary said, flustered. “Sorry for the delay, sweetheart.”   
She turned away from both Bill and Derek to hide her absolute fury at Bill. She wanted him out of her house at this point.   
“Derek, I’m afraid I’ve got to get going. I have an early morning appointment,” she heard Bill say behind her as if he had read her mind. “Thanks for the wonderful evening.”  
“Bill! Thank you so much for coming tonight. It meant a lot to both Hillary and I.” She could hear Derek clapping Bill on the back. “We should meet for coffee sometime next week, to talk about my latest project.”  
“Sounds like a plan, I’ll be in touch,” Bill said. “Goodbye, Hillary. It was nice to see you tonight.”  
“Goodbye, Bill.” Somehow Hillary had forced herself to turn around and look at Bill. She forced a smile. “It was great to see you, too.”  
Bill bent forward and lightly kissed Hillary on the cheek. “You don’t know anything about your life,” he softly whispered in Hillary’s ear before he strode out of the kitchen without looking back. Hillary heard the elevator arrive and the doors close a few minutes later.   
“Um, do we have any special coffee cups for dinner parties?” Hillary asked Derek, as if the conversation she had just had with Bill hadn’t occurred at all. She could feel herself shaking though.   
“Just use the regular everyday coffee mugs,” Derek answered. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You’re shaking.” He placed a steadying hand on Hillary’s upper right arm.   
“I’m fine,” Hillary lied, faking a smile.   
“Did Bill say something to upset you?” Derek asked curiously.   
“No, no, everything’s fine,” Hillary insisted. “I just need to get these coffees out to our guests.”  
***  
Hillary woke up the next morning and groaned when she realized that the events of last night hadn’t been a dream. She hadn’t even been able to get out of bed that morning even though she had been awake for a while. She kept replaying the events from the day before in her mind. Just as she was adjusting to her new life and feeling like everything was coming back into place again, it all came crashing down. Betsy was claiming she was a bitch boss from hell and Bill was claiming that he was her secret lover. Hillary could only imagine what the next crazy revelation would be. 

_It can’t be true. It just can’t be. Why would I cheat on Derek? He’s loving and caring and good-looking. He’s a millionaire and knows how to drive a speedboat_ Hillary thought. Whereas Bill was the complete opposite of Derek. She still had feelings for Bill but they were _divorced_.  
 _Why would I cheat on my husband with my ex-husband? It just doesn’t make any sense_ Hillary thought. _And the nerve of him. To say ‘You don’t know anything about your life.’ I know PLENTY about my life, thank you very much. I know where I buy my clothes, I know how I take my coffee, I know how often Derek and I have sex...It’s all in the marriage manual._  
Hillary smiled to herself defiantly.   
_And how rude was that of Bill anyways? You don’t just drop a bombshell on someone and claim you’re having an affair with them while they’re trying to host a dinner party with their husband. You choose a different moment. Maybe you write a note?_  
Hillary hesitated. _No, you don’t write a note. You..._  
Hillary shook her head. She needed to stop thinking about it and get up and get ready for the day. It was Saturday and she didn’t know if Derek had plans for the day or not but she was thinking that maybe they could do something fun together. Maybe catch a movie or go out for brunch together? She was tired of sitting around the apartment all the time.   
She ran her hands through her hair and got out of bed. She was walking to the bathroom and trying to forget about Bill but her thoughts kept coming back to him.   
She shook her head angrily at the thought of him.   
_He’s probably taking advantage of my memory loss to try to get back together with me_ she thought angrily. _There’s no evidence we’re having an affair. None. I haven’t seen any trace of him anywhere in the apartment, no notes, no photos, no mementos..._  
But then...she wouldn’t exactly leave that stuff lying around the apartment out in the open for Derek to find, would she?  
 _I mean if it was a secret affair after all..._ she thought.  
On impulse, she walked in the opposite direction of the adjoining bathroom and walked across the room to her walk-in closet instead. She walked over to her vanity and wrenched open the first drawer. It was full of Hillary’s makeup, all neatly arranged and organized perfectly. She shut that drawer and opened the next one which was full of neatly folded scarves. The third drawer just contained a few odds and ends.   
Hillary sighed in frustration, _So much for that._  
She tried to think as hard as she could. If she was hiding important things, where would she hide them? Then suddenly it hit her...her underwear drawer. She figured that Derek would never look in there if he was looking for something.   
She walked over to the other side of the closet where there was a chest of drawers. She slowly opened the underwear drawer. She slowly reached in and started looking around among all of the satin and lacy La Perla and Victoria’s Secret bras but she couldn’t find anything besides bras it seemed.   
“Looking for something?”  
Derek’s voice made Hillary jump in surprise. She turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway of the closet, watching her, and she immediately felt herself start to blush.   
“Hi, Derek!” Hillary said, pulling her hands away from the bras as casually as she could muster. “I just thought I would, y’know, look for some bras.” She awkwardly laughed.   
_Nice going, Hillary_ she thought. _Obviously I can’t be having an affair. I’m the worst liar in the world. Who needs “some bras”?_  
“Actually, Derek...since you’re here, I was wondering...” she continued, “Is there any more of my stuff anywhere in the apartment?”  
“What kind of stuff?” Derek asked, his brow furrowing.   
“I don’t know? Letters? Journals? Those kinds of things?” Hillary answered.   
“You have a desk in the home office. That’s where you keep your work files,” Derek replied.   
“Oh, right,” Hillary said. She had forgotten about the home office. She usually avoided it because she figured it was more Derek’s domain than hers.   
“Wasn’t last night fun?” Derek asked, walking over to Hillary. “You did great, sweetheart. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”  
“Yes, it was lots of fun,” Hillary said, nervously, self consciously stroking her hair. “There were some...interesting people there.”  
“You weren’t too overwhelmed were you?”  
“Well, it was a little overwhelming,” Hillary answered with a small smile. “There’s still so much to learn.”  
“Well, you can ask me anything about your life, Hill. You know that,” Derek said, wrapping his arm around Hillary’s tiny waist. “Is anything on your mind in particular, sweetheart?”  
“Well...” Hillary said, clearing her throat. Was she really about to do this? “Since you asked, I was just wondering...we’re happy together, aren’t we? Do we have a happy and...faithful marriage?”  
She thought she had dropped “faithful” in there subtly but Derek’s eyebrows shot up.   
“Faithful?” Derek said, frowning. “Hillary, I’ve never been unfaithful to you. I would never even _think_ of being unfaithful to you. We made vows. We committed to each other. I know Bill burned you in the past and you still have trust issues because of it, and that is something we are still working through in _our_ marriage but believe me, I would never be anything but one-hundred-percent faithful to you, Hillary.”   
“Of course!” Hillary said, smiling. “Absolutely.”  
 _So did Bill cheat on me again? Is that why we divorced_? Hillary thought. _Was there a last straw that finally broke the camel’s back once and for all?_ She thought sadly.   
“I can’t even imagine how such an idea came to you,” Derek said, looking shocked. “I’m _not_ Bill. Has someone been saying otherwise about me? Was it one of our guests? Because whoever it was—”  
“No! No! No one said anything,” Hillary reassured him, even though she felt bad for kind of telling a lie. “Everything is just still so new and strange for me and...I just thought I’d ask. I was just curious.”  
At least she had clarification that her and Derek’s marriage was supposed to be monogamous and that gave her some peace of mind.   
She closed the bra drawer and opened another one at random and stared at all the pairs of neatly folded black yoga pants and leggings. She wanted to move on to a different topic with Derek but her mind kept whirling with thoughts of Bill.   
“So...Bill...” she started saying.   
“What about Bill?” Derek asked.  
Hillary shrugged, “What do you think of him? It’s not weird being friends and working with him? Since I used to be married to him?”  
“Well, I don’t like how he treated you at the end of your marriage but he’s still a great guy. I can understand why you were married to him for twenty years,” Derek answered. “He’s one of the best guys I’ve ever met in my entire life. He’s been a massive part of my company’s success. He has a great imagination and creative vision.”  
Hillary nodded in agreement with Derek. She knew how talented Bill was at his job.   
“And his imagination,” Hillary said, seizing on to this. “Maybe he can be _over_ imaginative at times? Right? Like a bit of a dreamer?”   
“No, not really,” Derek replied, seeming confused. He shrugged his shoulders. “Bill’s my right-hand man. Truth be told, I couldn’t have done half of what I’ve accomplished without him. You’d trust Bill with your life. You know that, Hillary. You were married to him for twenty years for God's sake.”  
Hillary nodded in agreement, “Of course.” She managed a half-smile. She was about to try to distract Derek before he could ask why she was suddenly so interested in Bill, and ask him about doing something together that day when she noticed something she had never noticed before. It was a concealed drawer at the bottom of the chest of drawers, with a combination lock on it.   
_I have a secret drawer?_ Hillary thought.  
Her heart pounded at the thought of what it could be.   
“Hey, Derek?” She asked.   
“Yes, sweetheart?”  
“What’s the combination to that lock?” she asked, nodding her head towards the drawer.  
Derek smirked and he slightly chuckled. “Oh, _that_ drawer.”  
“Derek, tell me!” Hillary insisted, now scared by his reaction.   
“You really want to know?” Derek asked, still smirking. His eyebrows were wiggling.   
“Yes!” Hillary insisted.   
“25-36-47,” Derek answered.   
Hillary carefully turned the dial left and right until she heard a click. She carefully pulled the drawer open.   
She turned around to look at Derek and he was obviously waiting to see her reaction.  
She looked inside the drawer and was absolutely shocked at what she saw. It was a leather whip and a pair of handcuffs.   
_What the ever loving fuck?_ Hillary thought, absolutely gobsmacked.   
She could hear Derek laughing behind her.   
“You’d better not leave those around for Chelsea or Lucinda to accidentally find one day,” he said to Hillary with a wink, obviously amused.   
“This wasn’t in the manual, Derek!” Hillary hissed.   
“Not everything is in the manual, darling,” Derek responded with twinkling eyes.  
Hillary immediately shoved the drawer shut as quickly as she could and it closed with a bang and a click. Her hands were sweaty. She didn’t want to think about what she had just discovered.   
_Do I...Does He..._ No. Nope. She wasn’t going to think about it.   
“That’s right, keep it locked up tight,” Derek said with another wink. “Anyways, darling, I have a session with my personal trainer at the gym soon and my car’s here. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” He kissed Hillary on the forehead before heading out. A few minutes later Hillary heard the elevator arriving for him and he was gone.   
_Oh God, I need a drink_ Hillary thought.   
***  
She had wandered downstairs to make herself a vodka martini from the bar area but she sniffed the air. Was someone baking? She walked into the kitchen and saw that Lucinda was working away, busying herself making chocolate chip cookies.   
“Oh, Miss. Hillary,” Lucinda said, noticing her boss. “I hope you don’t mind. They’re for my nieces. I’m going to visit my sister later. Mr. Derek gave me the afternoon off.”  
“Oh, no, not at all. Go ahead. My house is your house,” Hillary said. She was still getting used to having a housekeeper and having somebody else do all the cooking and the cleaning for her in her own home. “May I have one?” she asked Lucinda.   
Lucinda raised an eyebrow and looked confused but she shrugged, “Of course, Miss. Hillary. Take two. You’re too skinny. I won’t tell Mr. Derek.”   
She gave a conspiratorial grin to Hillary and Hillary couldn’t help but return the grin. Instead of making a martini, she settled for the two chocolate chips and a big cup of coffee instead. She took her snack over to the living room couch and sat in front of the television, turning on the morning news.   
She took a bite of the freshly baked cookie and savored it in all of its glory.   
_Oh God, I’ve missed cookies. And bread. Especially toast. What I wouldn’t do right now for a piece of toast slathered in butter..._ She thought happily before she snapped out of it.   
_Stop fantasizing about carbs. And stop thinking about the whip and handcuffs. It’s no big deal_ she thought. She needed to push the discovery out of her mind. 

She decided to call Chelsea and see if she was free to come over that afternoon since Derek was out and she and Chelsea hadn’t really seen that much of each other since Hillary had gotten out of the hospital. Chelsea said she was free to come over but not until noon so Hillary had nothing else to do until then. She grabbed a random magazine off of a side table in the living room but she was too on edge to read and couldn’t concentrate.   
She decided that now was her chance to explore the home office and to learn more about her life.   
She looked at her desk which was across from Derek’s. It was a pretty bare desk with the desk chair neatly tucked in. She sat down and opened the first drawer which was full of letters and bank statements, neatly organized and clipped together. She then opened the second drawers which was filled with her work files, also neatly organized and color-coded.   
She opened the third drawer which was the biggest, expecting to find more work files, but it was empty except for two scrap pieces of paper.   
She took out the bank statements from the first drawer and flipped through them. She noticed that a portion of her money from her personal account went into a joint bank account she shared with Derek, and that one big lump sum every month was going into something called “Mgr Acc.” She frowned. She would have to figure out what that account was for later.   
She took out the two scraps of paper from the bottom drawer. One was covered in her handwriting but it was all in abbreviations that Hillary didn’t recognize and couldn’t interpret. The second piece had her writing scrawled across it in pencil. 

_I just wish_

_I wish? I wish what? What did I wish?_ Hillary thought, staring at it.   
Even though she knew it was pointless, she tried to remember herself writing those words. She tried to imagine writing those words.   
_How long ago was it? Was it a year ago? A month ago? Six months ago? What was I talking about?_ She thought.   
She sighed and carefully folded the paper up. She was going to put it away in her bedroom in a safe place so she didn’t lose it. She banged the empty bottom drawer shut and left the office to go get ready for Chelsea’s visit in a few hours.   
***  
Later that day, Chelsea arrived right on time.   
“Mom!” She said happily, as she got off the elevator.   
“Hi, Chels!” Hillary was relieved to see a familiar face. It felt like lately she had been surrounded by strangers and it was a strange feeling.   
She and Chelsea embraced tightly.   
“Can I get you something to drink?” Hillary offered to her.   
“Sure, I’ll take a Diet Coke if you have any,” Chelsea answered.   
“No problem,” Hillary said. “Go sit down, and relax.” She nodded towards the living room.  
She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.   
“There isn’t Diet Coke, but we have sparkling water,” she called to Chelsea.   
“That’s fine, mom!” Chelsea called back.   
Hillary poured their drinks and took them into the living room. She put the drinks down on the coffee table—making sure to use coasters since Derek would flip if rings were left on the coffee table. Chelsea had made herself comfortable on the sofa. Socks had jumped up onto the sofa, too and Chelsea was playing with him.   
“Chelsea, maybe the cat shouldn’t be on the twelve thousand dollar sofa,” Hillary gently said, chuckling.  
She had read in the marriage manual that Socks wasn’t allowed on the furniture but she had been letting him sleep with her at night anyways without Derek finding out so far.   
“ _Twelve thousand dollars_ , mom? For a sofa?” Chelsea said, obviously shocked as she put Socks down on the floor.   
“I was shocked, too. I guess Derek picked it out,” Hillary said, shrugging.   
“Yeah he _is_ a millionaire after all,” Chelsea dryly remarked.   
Hillary chuckled, “I missed you, Chels.” She rubbed Chelsea’s back as she sat down beside her.   
“Aww, mom, I missed you, too,” Chelsea said, resting her head on Hillary’s shoulder.   
“Tired?” Hillary asked.  
Chelsea nodded, “I’ve been so busy with school and work.”  
Hillary chuckled, “That’s good though. It’s good to keep yourself busy.”  
“I guess so,” Chelsea said. “So how is everything going? How’s life with Derek? And how’s your memory?”   
Hillary sighed, “I still don’t remember anything. But I’m adjusting. I’m re-learning everything. I went into the office for a visit yesterday. And Derek has been _so_ helpful. He made me a marriage manual with different sections and everything.”  
Chelsea smiled, “Aww, that’s sweet.”  
Hillary smiled, “Yeah, it is. We had a dinner party last night. It was nice but...overwhelming.”  
Hillary chuckled as she remembered the events from the night before.   
“I want to hear about your life though,” Hillary said to Chelsea.  
Chelsea shrugged, “My midterm exams for my summer classes are coming up. My internship at the mayor’s office is winding down. I only have a few more days left. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”  
“Yeah?” Hillary prompted.   
“I was wondering if maybe I could intern at your law firm for the rest of the summer? We had talked about it a little bit before the accident. You were going to set it up. You had already talked to Human Resources.”   
“Really? I didn’t know you were interested in law, Chels,” Hillary commented, smiling.  
Chelsea shrugged, also smiling. “I don’t really know what I want to do with my life right now. I’m majoring in history at school but I’m open to exploring all possibilities right now and going down different paths. I wouldn’t mind seeing what working at a law firm is like.”  
Hillary smiled to herself. She still couldn’t get over how mature Chelsea was. But she was also slightly saddened that she couldn’t remember five whole years of her own daughter’s life.   
“I can probably arrange that,” Hillary said. At least she _thought_ she could arrange it.   
“And have you spoken to your dad lately?” Hillary asked awkwardly.  
Chelsea nodded, “We talk on the phone every day. I think we’re going to get breakfast together tomorrow. He seems really good.”  
Hillary nodded, “Mmmm hmmm. That’s good.”  
She decided not to bring up the events of the dinner party with Chelsea. But then suddenly, an idea struck her.   
“Hey, Chels?”  
“Yes?” Chelsea asked.   
“I know this is a weird question but...did your dad move on after the divorce? Does he date? Does he have a girlfriend right now?”   
“Umm...” Chelsea thought for a moment. “Actually, he does have somebody right now. Her name’s Heather, I think. I haven’t met her yet because Dad told me she travels a lot for work but they’ve been together for about six months or so. He seems really happy right now, actually.”  
Hillary nodded and took a sip of her water, putting on a poker face for her daughter. That was that then. There was no evidence of a secret affair and according to Chelsea, Bill had a girlfriend. There was _no way_ her and Bill could be carrying on a secret affair. Hillary refused to believe it. 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it probably seems confusing right now lol but things will get clearer in future chapters. Let me know what you thought!


	13. Chapter 12

It was early evening. Chelsea and Hillary had spent the afternoon doing some shopping and they had grabbed a late lunch together but Chelsea had gone home a while ago in order to study for her exams. That evening, Derek was taking Hillary to his latest condominium development. He needed to have a meeting with Carla, the interior designer of the show units and he had suggested that Hillary come along so that he could show her the building itself and the penthouse show unit in particular.  
They were driving there together in Derek’s Mercedes convertible but mentally Hillary was still hung up on the affair thing.   
_But there’s no evidence..._ Hillary thought. _If I was really having an affair, there would be a trail. A note, a photo, a journal entry...something like that._  
She just kept reminding herself that by all accounts, she was happily married to Derek.   
“Hey, Derek?” Hillary asked as they drove along. “I was looking at my bank statements today. I seem to make a regular lump sum deposit into an account I didn’t recognize. I called the bank before you got home and they said it’s an offshore account.”  
“Uh-huh,” Derek said, nodding but he wasn’t really paying attention. Hillary waited to see if he was going to say something else but he turned on the radio instead.   
“Do you know anything about it?” Hillary asked, over the sound of the music playing.   
“Nope,” Derek said, shrugging, “But it’s not a bad idea, to put some money offshore.”  
“Right,” Hillary said, sighing. She was disappointed in the answer she got but she didn’t feel like arguing or fighting with Derek.   
“I just need to get gas, hold on.” Derek pulled into a gas station. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”  
“Actually,” Hillary said. Now that they were here, she realized she was craving something salty. “Could you please get me a bag of chips, honey? Salt and vinegar if they have them?”  
“Chips?” Derek asked, aghast. He stared at Hillary as if she suddenly had three heads or something.   
“Yes, sweetheart. Chips.” Hillary smiled at Derek.   
“Um, sweetie,” Derek said, looking confused. “You don’t eat chips. Remember? It’s in the manual. Our nutritionist has recommended a low-carb, high-protein diet for us.”  
“Well, yeah, I know,” Hillary responded, shrugging. “But everyone deserves a little treat now and then, right? And I’m really craving some chips right now.”   
“The doctors warned me you might act irrational sometimes, and seem out of character at times,” Derek muttered, more to himself than to Hillary.   
“It’s not irrational to eat a bag of chips!” Hillary protested, laughing. “Oh, Derek. They’re not _poisonous_ or anything.”  
“Sweetheart...I’m just thinking of you,” Derek gently said. “I know how hard you worked at losing those two dress sizes. We’ve invested a lot of money into your personal trainer and nutritionist. If you want to throw everything away on a bag of chips, then that’s your choice I guess. Do you still want the chips?”  
 _Excuse me?_ Hillary thought.   
“Yes,” Hillary said in a defiant tone. “I still want them.”  
She noticed a look of annoyance cross over Derek’s face but he forced a smile.   
“No problem, sweetheart.” He slammed the car door shut.   
A few minutes later, Derek walked back over to the car with a bag of chips in his right hand.   
“Here’s your _chips_ ,” Derek said and practically threw the bag at Hillary’s lap.   
“Thank you!” Hillary replied, and smiled gratefully but she wasn’t sure if Derek even noticed. He was staring straight ahead at the road, a flicker of anger in his eyes.   
_Jesus, they’re just chips_ Hillary thought.   
She started eating them, trying to crunch them as quietly as she could.   
The rode in mostly silence for several minutes except for the faint sound of music coming from the car radio.   
“It’s not your fault,” Derek suddenly said, breaking the silence. “You had an accident and hit your head pretty hard. I can’t expect you to be your normal self yet, I guess.”   
“I feel perfectly normal,” Hillary insisted.   
“Of course you do,” Derek responded, reaching over and patronizingly patting her left hand.   
Hillary stiffened. She was about to tell Derek that there was no need to patronize her and that eating chips didn’t make her irrational; that eating one tiny bag of chips wouldn’t ruin her perfect figure, but she noticed Derek was turning into a parking garage. He parked the car and turned off the engine. They got out of the car and Hillary followed Derek out of the parking garage to the front of a large and tall condominium complex made out of steel and glass.   
“Here we are,” Derek said, grinning. Hillary could hear the pride in his voice. “This is my latest baby.”   
Hillary gazed up at it, totally overcome, forgetting all about the chips fiasco.   
“You built this?” She asked in amazement.  
Derek laughed, “Not personally, but yeah, I helped develop it. Come on.”   
A uniformed doorman opened the door for them and they stepped into the grand foyer. It was similar to the foyer of the building that she lived in with Derek with pale marble and white pillars everywhere.   
“This is amazing!” Hillary remarked, noticing the tiny details in the architecture and design.   
“The penthouse has its own elevator.” Derek nodded to the doorman and ushered Hillary into the elevator. “The building has a pool, a gym, party room, and even a cinema for the building’s residents.”  
“Wow, that’s incredible,” Hillary commented.   
“And here we are...” Derek said as the elevator doors opened with a ping and they entered the foyer of the show unit. Derek led her into the living room and Hillary was in awe. This place was even more unbelievable than the penthouse she shared with Derek. It had floor-to-ceiling windows, an incredible view of New York City and Central Park, a huge television, and an electric fireplace.   
“Carla?” Derek called. And a moment later, a skinny dark-haired women with black thick-rimmed glasses in her mid-forties appeared.   
Hillary remembered that Derek mentioned that Carla was the interior designer who had designed their penthouse and that she designed all of the show units for Derek’s properties.   
“Hi, Derek!” She cheerfully said. “And Hillary! You’re up and about!” She gave Hillary a big hug. “I heard all about the accident. You poor thing.”  
“I’m fine,” Hillary insisted. “Really. I’m just trying to piece my life back together again. This place is amazing by the way!” She gestured around the living room.   
“Thank you,” Carla responded, accepting the compliment. “We’re trying to appeal to our ultra-high networths.”  
“Ultra-what?” Hillary asked, confused.   
“The very rich,” Derek explained. “That’s our target market.”  
“Neutral colors, like beiges and greys are essential for the ultra-highs,” Carla explained.   
“Well, this is a beautiful apartment,” Hillary complimented to both Derek and Carla.  
It was like a whole new world to Hillary, the luxury apartment business. Lost for words, she looked around the apartment again. At the curved black marble cocktail bar and the sunken seating area. And the glass chandelier hanging from the living room ceiling.   
_I don’t even WANT to know how much this place costs_ Hillary thought to herself.   
“Here’s a scale model of the building,” Carla said, handing Hillary an intricate scale model made of plastic and wooden sticks. “This is the whole building! You’ll notice I’ve decorated with lots of greys, beiges, and blacks to match the outside exterior of the building.”  
“Oh...Excellent!” Hillary said. She couldn’t think of anything to say since she didn’t know much about interior design or decorating.   
“So, how did you come up with all of this? The concept I mean?” Hillary asked Carla, gesturing around the living room again.   
“My area is soft furnishings, fabrics, objects, details. The big concept stuff was all Bill,” Carla answered.   
Hillary felt her stomach flip-flop.   
“Bill?” She tilted her head.   
“Bill, your ex-husband, silly,” Derek piped in, laughing. “Bill’s one of my architects? Remember?”   
Hillary nodded, “Oh, yes, yes, of course!”   
She started playing with the model in her fingers, trying to ignore the flush she could feel rising in her cheeks.   
“Bill, there you are!” Carla called out. “We were just talking about you actually!”  
 _He’s HERE?_ Hillary thought. She felt her fingers clench involuntarily around the scale model.   
_I don’t want to see him. I don’t want him to see me. I have to make an excuse and get out of here_ Hillary thought.   
But it was too late. Bill was already walking into the living room, wearing jeans and a blue plaid button down shirt.   
_Okay, stay calm_ Hillary thought. _Everything’s fine. He’s just your ex-husband. You’re happily married to Derek and have no evidence of any secret fling, affair, or liaison with him._  
“Hi, Derek, Hillary,” He nodded politely at them as he walked over but then suddenly he stared down at Hillary’s hands. She looked down and felt absolutely mortified as she saw the crushed scale model in her hands.   
“ _Hillary_!” Derek scolded, just noticing it. “How on earth did that happen?”  
“Oh, no, Bill. Your model!” Carla said, frowning in dismay.   
“Don’t worry about it, Hillary,” Bill reassured her. “It only took me a month to make.”  
“A _month_? Oh my God, Bill, I am so sorry...” Hillary felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she had accidentally broken something Bill had worked hard on. “If you give me some scotch tape or something maybe I can fix it?”  
“Maybe not quite a month,” Bill said, staring intently at Hillary. “Maybe just a couple of hours.”  
“Oh,” Hillary said, chuckling a little bit. “Well, anyways. I’m still sorry.”  
“You can make it up to me,” Bill said to her, still staring at her intensely.   
_Make it up to him? What the hell does that mean?_ Hillary thought.  
Unconsciously and without really thinking about it, Hillary slipped her arm through Derek’s.   
“The apartment’s very impressive, Bill,” Hillary complimented, going into corporate-wife-type mode, sweeping an arm around the space. “My congratulations to you.”  
“Thank you. I’m happy with it,” Bill replied in an equally bland and professional tone. “How’s the memory?”  
“The same as it was yesterday,” Hillary answered.   
“You haven’t remembered anything new?” Bill asked.   
“Nope. Nothing.” Hillary shrugged.   
“Well, that’s a shame,” Bill said stoically.   
“Yeah,” Hillary said.   
She was trying to sound natural and professional but she could feel an old familiar spark of chemistry growing between her and Bill. The atmosphere felt electric.   
She glanced at Derek, concerned that he had noticed or felt the atmosphere change, but he hadn’t seemed to notice anything.   
_Can’t he feel it? Can’t he SEE it?_ Hillary thought. _He’s not jealous of Bill?_  
“Derek, we need to talk about the Washington, D.C project,” Carla said, flipping through a black binder. “I visited the site last week and I took some notes.”   
“Bill, why don’t you show Hillary around the apartment while Carla and I talk?” Derek suggested, loosening his arm from Hillary’s.   
“No, don’t worry about it,” Hillary said, feeling herself stiffening. “I can go wait downstairs in the car.”   
“I’m happy to show you,” Bill offered. “That is, if you’re interested.”   
“Really, there’s no need...”  
“Sweetheart, Bill designed the whole building,” Derek said. “It’s a great opportunity for you to learn more about my company and the company’s vision.”  
“Come this way and I’ll explain the initial concept,” Bill urged, gesturing towards the other side of the room.   
“That sounds great.” Hillary relented, knowing she couldn’t get out of this.   
_Fine. If he wants to talk, I’ll talk_ Hillary thought angrily. She followed Bill across the room.   
“So,” Hillary said politely. “This isn’t at all like the work you were doing when we were married. How do you come up with your ideas? All of these ‘statements’ or whatever they are.”  
Bill frowned and Hillary tried to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. She wasn’t in the mood for Bill to start spouting off something pretentious.   
“I just ask myself, what would a rich motherfucker like?” Bill finally answered. “And I put it into the design.”  
“Oh,” Hillary said, laughing, not expecting that answer at all. “Well if I were a rich motherfucker, I’d love this place.”  
“You’re married to a rich motherfucker,” Bill retorted dryly.   
“Touché.”  
Bill took one step closer to Hillary and lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. “So you really haven’t remembered anything?”  
“No. Nothing at all.”  
“Okay,” Bill said, exhaling. “Hear me out. We have to meet. And talk. There’s a place we go to, a pub, O’Grady’s.” Suddenly he started talking in a louder voice again. “And you’ll notice the high ceilings, Hillary. They’re our trademark feature of all of our developments.” He glanced over and saw Hillary’s expression. “What?”  
“Are you crazy?” Hillary hissed. She looked over to make sure Derek didn’t hear but he was still engrossed in conversation with Carla on the other side of the room. “I’m not having drinks with you, Bill! I haven’t found a single piece of evidence that we’re having an affair. Not one!” She rose her voice, “And what a great sense of space!”   
“Evidence?” Bill asked, confused. “What evidence?”  
“I don’t know,” Hillary answered. “Something like a love letter?”  
“We didn’t write each other letters.”  
“I don’t know, then? Trinkets?” Hillary tried.   
“ _Trinkets_?” Bill looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “We weren’t much into trinkets either.”  
“Well, it couldn’t have been much of an affair then!” Hillary retorted. “I’ve looked in my vanity—nothing. I’ve looked in my desk at home—nothing. Oh, and get this! I asked Chelsea if you had a girlfriend and she said you’ve been seeing someone named Heather for the past six months!”  
“Hillary.” Bill paused, as if he was trying to figure out how to explain things to Hillary. “ _You’re_ Heather! Heather doesn’t exist. We needed a cover story with Chelsea. She’s smart; she would have figured things out. It was a secret affair, Hillary. As in, _an affair we kept a secret_.”  
“Well, there’s still no proof,” Hillary said defiantly. She shrugged.   
She turned away from Bill and started walking away, towards the dining room. Bill followed her.   
“You want proof?” Bill asked. “I know about the scar on your shoulder. You didn’t have it when we were married.”   
“That’s a lucky guess. You probably noticed it while I was wearing something sleeveless,” Hillary pointed out. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right.   
“What an amazing use of light!” She said loudly just in case Derek was listening. She waved at Derek, who waved back and continued his conversation with Carla.   
“It’s not a lucky guess, Hillary,” Bill said, staring at her intensely. “I’m not making this up. We’re having an affair. We love each other. It’s a deep and passionate love. Like we used to have.”   
“Look!” Hillary frantically ran her hands through her hair. “This is...crazy! I would never have an affair, Bill. Not with you or anyone. I’ve never been unfaithful to anybody in my entire life-”  
Bill cut her off. “We had sex on that couch a month ago. Right there.” He nodded at the very sofa that Carla and Derek were sitting on in the living room.   
Hillary stared at Carla and Derek, speechless.   
“You were on top,” Bill casually remarked.   
“Stop it!” Feeling flustered, Hillary turned around and strode to the other side of the apartment, where a cream carpeted staircase led to the penthouse apartment’s second floor.   
“Let’s take a look at the master bedroom,” Bill said loudly as he followed Hillary upstairs. “I think you’ll like it...”  
“No, I won’t,” Hillary retorted over her shoulder. “Look, Bill. Just leave me alone. Please.”  
They both reached the top of the staircase. Hillary leaned over the steel railing and looked at Derek and Carla down below. She could see the lights of New York City through the apartment’s huge windows. She had to hand it to Bill and Derek, it was a fantastic apartment.  
Next to her, Bill was sniffing the air.  
Have you been eating potato chips, Hillary?” he asked.   
“Maybe,” Hillary answered, giving him a suspicious look.  
Bill laughed and his eyes opened wide. “Whooo, Hill. I’m impressed. How did you sneak those past the food Nazi?”  
“He’s not a food Nazi!” Hillary insisted, feeling a sudden impulse to defend Derek. “He just cares about healthy eating. What’s wrong with that?”  
“Hillary, if he could round up every loaf of bread, dinner roll, and croissant in the world and kill them he would,” Bill joked.   
“Stop it,” Hillary said but she couldn’t keep herself from laughing and she broke into a fit of giggles. She had missed Bill’s sense of humor. And now that she was looking at him close up and paying attention, she realized he was still as sexy as ever...   
“What do you want from me, Bill?” Hillary asked, helplessly. “What do you expect me to do? I’m happily married to Derek.”  
“Who do I want?” Bill paused and Hillary could tell he was formulating his response and getting his thoughts together. “I want you to tell your husband you’re not in love with him. And then I want you to come home with me, to Brooklyn, and we start a new life together. Or rather, re-start our life together.”   
“So wait, let me get this straight,” Hillary retorted back. “Just to clarify. You want me to come and live with you in Brooklyn. Right now. Just like that?”  
Hillary felt like laughing at him.   
“In about, let’s say, ten minutes?” Bill said, checking his watch. “I have a few things to finish up first.”  
“You’re crazy, Bill.” Hillary shook her head.   
“I’m not crazy,” Bill said patiently. “I love you. You love me. Really. You have to take my word for it. I mean, we were married for twenty years, Hill. I did things at the end of our marriage that I’m not proud of but we never fell out of love with each other.”   
“I don’t have to take your word on _anything_!” Hillary argued. “I’m _married_ , okay? I have a new husband whom I love and whom I’ve promised to love and cherish forever. Here’s the proof!” She waved her left hand in Bill’s face showing him her wedding ring. “Here’s the fucking proof, Bill!”   
“You love him, Hillary?” Bill asked, ignoring her ring. “You feel love for him? Deep down inside? In here?” He made a fist and thumped his heart.   
“Yes, I’m desp—” Hillary couldn’t say it. As much as she wanted to snap at Bill and say “Yes, I’m desperately in love with Derek”, she couldn’t quite bring herself to lie.   
“Well, it’s not _quite_ there yet,” Hillary admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll come. In time. Derek’s an amazing guy. Everything is great between us. We have a fantastic marriage.”  
“You two haven’t had sex yet since the accident, have you?” Bill suddenly asked.   
“What?” Hillary said, taken aback.   
“Well...have you?” Bill asked with a mischievous grin.   
“Maybe we have, maybe we haven’t! It’s none of your business, Bill. I’m not going to discuss private things about my marriage with you.”   
“That’s the thing, Hill,” Bill replied. “You do discuss private things with me. Including things about yours and Derek’s sex life. That’s the point I’m trying to make.”  
To Hillary’s surprise, he reached for her right hand. He just held it for a few moments and looked at it before he started tracing small patterns in the skin with his thumb.  
Hillary felt her breath hitch in her throat. It was like no time at all had passed between them and the familiar feelings she felt whenever Bill touched her came flooding back. Her body felt tingly everywhere and she could feel goosebumps on the back of her neck.   
“So what do you think?” Derek’s booming voice from downstairs made Hillary jump in surprise and brought her back to reality. She quickly pulled her hand out of Bill’s grasp.   
_What was I even thinking?_ She thought.   
“I love it, Derek! It’s amazing!” She called over the upstairs railing, her voice unnaturally high. “We’ll just be a couple more minutes...”  
She started walking towards the door to the master bedroom, out of sight of Derek and Carla, and motioned for Bill to follow her.   
“Listen, Bill. I’ve had enough,” she asserted. “Leave me alone. We’re divorced. I don’t love you anymore. Things are difficult enough for me right now. I just want to move on with my life. With my _husband_. Okay? You can contact me if it’s about Chelsea, but that’s it.”   
“No, that’s not okay!” Bill responded, grabbing Hillary’s left arm. “Hillary, you don’t know the whole story yet. You’re not happy with Derek. He doesn’t love you. Not like I do anyways. He doesn’t _understand_ you.”  
“Of course Derek loves me!” Hillary argued. “He sat by my hospital bed day and night. Apparently he was worried sick about me. He brought me roses too.”  
“You think _I_ didn’t want to be the one to sit by your hospital bed night and day? You think I didn’t want to personally give you a bouquet of roses?” Bill asked, choking up slightly. “You think I didn’t want to drop everything and get on the next available flight to New York when Chelsea called and told me about the accident? I nearly did buy a plane ticket home after I got off the phone with her. Hillary, it nearly killed me to think of you in pain.”   
“Let me go.” Hillary tried pulling her arm away but Bill had a firm grip.   
“Please, Hillary. You can’t throw us away,” Bill pleaded with a desperate look in his eyes. “It’s in there. Somewhere. I know it is—”  
“You’re wrong, Bill!" She managed to free her arm from Bill’s grasp. “It’s not!”   
She ran away from Bill, running down the stairs as fast as her stiletto heels would let her and nearly crashed right into Derek at the bottom.   
“Hi, honey!” He laughed. “Everything okay? You seem like you’re in a hurry.”  
“I...um, I’m not feeling well,” Hillary lied. “I’ve suddenly got the worst headache ever. I really need to go home and take a Tylenol. Can we go now?”   
“Of course we can, sweetie,” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Did you say goodbye to Bill?”  
“I did. Let’s just...go. Please.”   
Derek nodded and started leading Hillary over to the elevator.   
Hillary tightly clung on to Derek’s hand, feeling her nerves slightly beginning to calm down.   
_This is my husband. This is who I’m supposed to be in love with. This is reality_ she thought. 

To Be Continued...


	14. Chapter 13

Hillary had spent the remainder of the weekend immersing herself completely in the past five years. She had gone through photo albums, watched home movies, watched movies and television shows from the past five years that she knew she had already “seen” but she didn’t remember watching of course, she had listened to music that old Hillary had probably listened to thousands of times in the past five years...but nothing was working.   
“Remember, Hillary,” she said to herself in the bathroom mirror. “ _Remember_.”  
She sighed to herself in frustration.   
_I NEED my memory back_ she thought angrily. _I’ve HAD it with this stupid amnesia. I’ve had it with people telling me they know more about my life than I apparently do. It’s MY memory and MY life._  
“Hillary? I’m going to work now,” Derek said, walking into the bathroom and coming up behind Hillary. He was holding a VHS tape, out of its box. “And babe? You left this on the living room coffee table. Is that a sensible place for a video tape?”   
“Sorry, Derek,” Hillary quickly apologized to him, taking the tape from him. “I don’t know how that got there,” she lied.   
“No problem. Just put movies back where they belong inside the entertainment center next time when you’re finished watching them,” Derek reassured her. “I called a car for you. It’ll be here at eight. I’m off now.”   
“Great!” Hillary said and gave him a kiss goodbye like she now did every morning. Kissing Derek was beginning to feel quite natural and normal to her, in fact. “Have a nice day!”  
“You, too,” he replied, squeezing her shoulder. “Good luck today, sweetheart.”  
“Thanks,” Hillary confidently said.  
It was her first day going back to work, full-time. Not to argue cases in court obviously, but to start re-learning her job and to catch up on what she’d missed. It had been three weeks since the accident and she was tired of sitting around at home all day doing nothing.   
_I have to do something_ she thought to herself. _I have to get my life back. And my friends._  
On her bed, all ready to go, were three gift bags with presents inside for Betsy, Dana, and Michelle, which Hillary was going to give them today when she went into the office.   
She smiled to herself when she thought of their faces when she gave them the gifts. She had spent ages walking around Bloomingdale’s the day before choosing the perfect presents. She just knew her friends would love them. 

***

As her car got closer to the office, Hillary could feel the nerves and butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. She clutched her gift bags and her briefcase tightly, giving herself a silent pep talk to herself in her head.   
The car dropped her off in front of the skyscraper where the Rose & Associates offices were located and she took a deep breath while she adjusted her Dolce & Gabbana black pantsuit.   
With trepidation and nervousness, she took the elevator up to the 24th floor. She got out of the elevator and the first thing she saw was Betsy, Dana, and Michelle making coffee in the break room’s kitchen. They were laughing about something, probably talking to each other about their weekends but as soon as Hillary appeared their conversation stopped abruptly.   
“Hey, guys!” Hillary tried to give the warmest, friendliest smile she could muster. “I’m back for good!”   
“Hi, Hillary,” Betsy said flatly.   
“You look really nice today, Betsy! That outfit’s great,” Hillary complimented. Betsy raised her right eyebrow in confusion. “And Dana, you look amazing, too. And Michelle! Wow, your hair looks different today. It’s really glossy and shiny. I love it!”   
Hillary tried to gauge their reactions but they all looked unimpressed. Hillary knew she was probably making a fool of herself. Betsy’s arms were crossed across her chest and Michelle looked like she was trying not to laugh.   
“So anyway...” Hillary took a deep breath and forced herself to slow down. “I got you all a little something. Betsy, this one’s for you. And for you, Dana...”  
“What this for?” Michelle asked, her voice filled with contempt.   
“Well you know! Just to um...” Hillary was drawing a blank. “You guys are my friends! I wanted to do something nice for you guys. Go on. Open them!”  
Giving each other uncertain looks, the three of them started pulling out the tissue paper out of their respective gift bags.   
“ _Michael Kors_?” Betsy said in disbelief, as she pulled out the jewelry box. “Hillary, really, I can’t accept—”  
“Yes, you can. Really. It’s fine. My treat. Go on, open it,” Hillary insisted.  
Silently, Betsy opened the box to reveal a gold watch.   
“Remember?” Hillary said eagerly. “We’d always look at them whenever we went shopping. But you never bought one. But now you actually have one!”   
“Actually...” Betsy sighed, looking uncomfortable. “Hillary, I bought one three years ago.”  
She lifted up the sleeve of her blazer and she was wearing a similar looking, just a slightly older model and a more worn out, watch.   
“Oh, okay then,” Hillary said, feeling her heart sink. “Well, that’s okay. I can return it, or exchange it. We can go shopping together to get something else...”  
“Hillary, I can’t use this,” Michelle chimed in, handing Hillary back the perfume gift set she had been gifted. “The smell makes me nauseous.”  
“But it’s your favorite,” Hillary said, confused.   
“Was,” Michelle explained. She pushed her blazer to the side and showed Hillary a slightly protruding tiny baby bump. “I’m pregnant.”  
“What! You’re _pregnant_?” Hillary said, in amazement. “That’s amazing! Congratulations! The IVF finally worked then? Nate must be thrilled—”  
“It’s not Nate’s baby,” Michelle coldly cut her off.   
“It’s not...what? Did you two get divorced, too? “Hillary asked, totally confused.   
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She thrust the tissue paper and the empty gift bag into Hillary’s arms and stormed off.   
“Great, Hillary!” Betsy sarcastically said. “Just when we thought she had finally gotten over Nate!”   
“I didn’t know!” Hillary said, feeling mortified. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry...” She could feel her cheeks getting pink. “Dana? Why don’t you open your present?”  
Silently, Dana pulled out the tissue paper and pulled out a white jewelry box. She opened the box and found a silver cross necklace that was studded with tiny white diamonds.   
“I know it’s a bit extravagant, but I know you love jewelry and I wanted to get you something special,” Hillary explained.   
“I can’t wear this, Hillary,” Dana thrust the box back at Hillary. “It’s a cross. I’m Jewish now, Hillary.”  
“You’re _Jewish_?” Hillary said, feeling puzzled. “Since when?”  
“Since I got engaged to Aaron. I’m getting remarried,” Dana explained. “I had to convert.”  
“Wow, you’re _engaged_?” Hillary remarked. She just then noticed the diamond engagement ring on Dana’s left hand. “When’s the wedding? Where’s the venue?”  
“Next month,” Dana answered, looking down towards the floor. “In The Hamptons.”   
“Next month! Oh my God, Dana! But I haven’t got—”  
Hillary stopped herself. She was about to say “But I haven’t got an invitation” but of course she didn’t have a wedding invitation. She wasn’t invited.   
“I mean...wow, congratulations, Dana!” Hillary said, managing to keep a smile plastered on her face. “I hope it’s a fantastic day. And don’t worry. I can return the cross...and the watch...and the perfume...”  
“Yeah,” Betsy said awkwardly. “Anyways, we’ll see you around, Hillary.”  
“Bye,” Dana said, still not being able to look Hillary in the eye.   
They both left the kitchen and Hillary could feel tears pricking at her eyelids.   
_Awesome job, Hillary. You didn’t win your friends back. You just made everything worse_ Hillary sadly thought.   
“A present for me?” Hillary heard Samantha’s sarcastic voice behind her. She turned around and saw Samantha enter the kitchen, a coffee mug in her hand. “How nice of you, Hillary!”   
“Hello, Samantha,” Hillary said as professionally as she could. “Nice to see you.”   
“It’s very brave of you to come back, Hillary,” Samantha commented as they started walking towards their respective offices. “I admire you.”   
“I’m really looking forward to it!” Hillary retorted, as confidently as she could. She wasn’t going to let herself crumble in front of Samantha.   
“Well, any questions, you know where to find me. Although today, I’ll be in the conference room with Bennett Raines for most of the day. Do you remember Bennett Raines?”  
 _Jesus Christ. Fuck it all to hell. Why does she pick people she KNOWS I’ve NEVER heard of?_ Hillary angrily thought to herself.   
“Remind me, please,” Hillary said, reluctantly.   
“He’s a music producer and his wife is divorcing him and asking for tens of thousands of dollars in alimony,” Samantha answered in a pleasant and polite tone but she was smirking.   
“Yes, I remember,” Hillary lied. “And why are you meeting with him?”  
“Well, the truth is,” Samantha answered, “He isn’t happy with the service Rose & Associates has been providing him and he’s been threatening to go to another firm. We can’t afford to lose him. His account brings in big bucks for the firm.”  
“Right,” Hillary said, nodding professionally. “Well, keep me posted on what happens.”   
They reached Hillary’s office and she opened the door, “See you later, Samantha.”  
She closed the door, dumped the gift bags onto the sofa, and opened the filing cabinet, taking out an entire drawer’s worth of files all at once. Trying not to feel overwhelmed, she sat down at her desk and opened the first file, which was a case file of a recent child custody case that Hillary had apparently worked on.   
_Five years. Five years of cases. I can catch up on five years_ Hillary confidently thought as she settled in for what would probably be a long day of reading case files.   
***  
Half an hour later, and she already had a headache. It felt like she hadn’t read anything serious or heavy for what felt like months to Hillary, when in reality it had only been three weeks. She had started taking notes and making a list of questions to ask and she was already onto the second side of a sheet of paper.   
“How are you doing?” Her door was ajar and Samantha was looking in.  
 _Doesn’t she ever KNOCK?_ Hillary thought in frustration.   
“Great. Everything’s fine,” Hillary said, defensively. “I just have a few small questions...”  
“Shoot,” Samantha said, leaning against the doorway.   
“I see the way that some things, like pre-nup and post-nup agreements are filed and organized has been changed...”  
“Oh, yes. Everyone’s been re-trained on how to do it according to the new system,” Samantha cut her off. “But that’s more the legal assistants concern anyways.”  
“Well, sign me up to get re-trained, too. And I noticed the firm doesn’t represent people with immigration cases anymore...” Hillary pointed out frowning.  
Samantha shrugged. “The firm was restructured and a ton of departments were made redundant and phased out. All of the immigration lawyers were laid off. The managing partners are trying to attract more corporate accounts and are slowly shifting the firm’s focus to corporate law.”   
“Right,” Hillary said, nodding, taking everything in. She looked at her sheet of questions again. “And what about Bateman & Reed? What’s that?”   
“They’re our advertising agency,” Samantha answered, rolling her eyes, clearly losing patience with Hillary. “They make advertisements for the law firm, on the radio and on television—”  
“I know what an ad agency is!” Hillary snapped, more fiercely than she had intended to. “What happened to J.C Thompson? We had a great relationship with them—”  
“They don’t exist anymore,” Samantha cut her off, rolling her eyes again. “They went bankrupt. Jesus, Hillary. You don’t know a fucking thing, do you?”  
Hillary was about to retort but stopped herself.   
_She’s right_ she sadly thought.   
“You’re never going to pick everything up again,” Samantha argued.   
“Yes I will!”   
“Hillary, face it. You’re unwell. You shouldn’t be putting yourself under this sort of strain—”  
“I am not _unwell_!” Hillary argued back, absolutely furious. She stood up, brushed past Samantha, and stormed out of her office. Elizabeth, her assistant, looked up in alarm, and quickly put her mobile phone away in her purse.   
“Good morning, Hillary. Did you need something? A cup of coffee maybe?”   
_Oh, no, the poor girl looks terrified_ Hillary realized. _Like I’m about to bite her head off. Okay now is my chance to prove to her that I’m not a boss bitch from hell. I’m ME._  
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” Hillary said in her usual friendly, warm manner. “How’s everything going?”  
“Um...Fine,” Elizabeth answered, sounding unsure. Her eyes were still wide with terror.   
“How about I get the both of us coffees?” Hillary suggested. “How does that sound?”  
“You?” Elizabeth said, hesitantly. “Get _me_ a coffee?”  
“Yes,” Hillary said nodding and smiling. “Why not? It’s no trouble.”  
“It’s...its okay. Ms. Rodham...I mean H-h-Hillary,” Elizabeth nervously stammered, sliding out of her chair. “I’ll go get you your usual from Starbucks.”   
_Oh God, I must really be a real bitch usually_ Hillary realized in horror.   
“Elizabeth, wait!” she said, desperately. “You know, Elizabeth? I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe one day we could have a girl’s day? We could get lunch together and go shopping? My treat.”  
Elizabeth looked even more puzzled, confused, and scared than before.   
“Um...yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, Hillary,” she mumbled before running to the elevators.   
Hillary turned around and saw Samantha behind her, laughing.   
“You really are a different person, aren’t you, Hillary?”   
“Maybe I just want to be friendly with my staff and treat them respectfully,” Hillary replied, defiantly. “What’s wrong with that?”  
“No! Nothing! I think it’s a _great_ idea, Hillary,” Samantha sarcastically said back.   
She clicked her tongue as if she had suddenly remembered something. “That reminds me. Before my meeting with Mr. Raines, there is one last thing I left for you to deal with as the Senior Partner in charge of the Family Law department. I thought it only right that you handle it.”  
 _Finally. She’s giving me some damn respect_ Hillary thought.   
“Yes? What is it?” Hillary asked.   
“We’ve had an e-mail from the managing partners about people abusing their lunch breaks.” She pulled a piece of paper out from where she had been hiding it behind her back. “Jonah Humphrey wants all of the Senior Partners to give their teams and departments a talking-to. Preferably, today. Can I leave that task to you?”   
She winked at Hillary and walked away.  
***  
 _Damn it all to hell_ Hillary thought as she read the memo from the managing partners that Samantha had given her about admonishing people for abusing their lunch breaks and taking too long.   
_Fuck_ she thought and took a deep breath. She could do this. She could be firm but still be pleasant and positive about it, without seeming like the bitch everybody apparently thought she was.   
She folded the memo up, put it in her pants pocket, and took another deep calming breath as she exited her office and headed over to the main Family Law offices. Most people were talking on the phone or working on paperwork and nobody really noticed her for a few minutes. Suddenly Betsy looked up and gestured to Dana and another girl who Hillary didn’t recognize which caused the girl to abruptly end her phone conversation. Eventually, people started hanging up their phones and looking up from their paperwork until the office had come to a standstill and everyone was staring at Hillary.   
“Hey, guys,” Hillary said in a cheerful and pleasant voice. “How’s it going?”   
She was met with blank and confused expressions.   
“Anyways!” Hillary continued, trying to remain calm and cheerful, “I was just wondering...are your lunch hours long enough?”   
“What?” A girl asked her. “Are we getting longer ones?”  
“Actually...” Hillary said. “Maybe they’re _too_ long.”  
“I think they’re fine,” the girl said, shrugging. “An hour gives us just enough time to eat and do some shopping.”  
“Yeah, an hour is just perfect,” another girl agreed.   
Hillary frowned as two girls in the corner started murmuring to each other.   
“Guys,” Hillary said, her voice coming out a little higher than she intended it to, “I have to tell you something about lunch breaks. A new policy here at the firm. Some people in the firm...I mean...obviously not necessarily any of _you_ —”  
“Hillary, what the fuck are you talking about?” Dana bluntly cut her off which caused Betsy and Michelle to explode into hysterical laughter.   
Hillary felt her cheeks getting warm.   
“Look guys, this a serious matter,” Hillary said, trying to keep her composure.   
Most people in the office were snickering and not paying attention to her. Hillary felt like they were all in on some joke that she wasn’t a part of.   
“Okay, well, look, just don’t take too long on your lunch breaks, okay?” Hillary finally said, feeling desperate. In spite of herself, she felt hot tears pooling in her eyes when she realized no one was listening and a few were still laughing.   
“I’ll...um...see you guys later,” she managed to say. “Keep up all...the great work.”   
With laughter following her, she turned and walked out of the Family Law department as fast as she could. Feeling dazed, she started walking towards the washroom, passing Natasha from Human Resources on the way.   
“Going to the bathroom, Hillary? You know you have a key to the partner’s washroom! Much nicer and cleaner!”   
“I’m fine in here,” Hillary said, forcing a smile as she pushed the bathroom door open. “Really.”  
She headed straight for the last cubical, slammed the door shut, and sunk down to the floor with her head in her hands, feeling the tension draining out of her body as she quietly sobbed.   
_Well that was the most humiliating experience of my life_ she thought.   
When she was able to lift her head out of her hands after a few minutes, she found herself reading the graffiti on the back of the cubicle door as a way to try to calm down and regain her composure. She managed to chuckle to herself, remembering how her and her colleagues would use this particular cubicle as kind of a message board, to vent or make inside jokes since none of the partner’s ever used that washroom...until today.   
She was running her eyes down the back of the door, smiling and quietly chuckling at some of the stories when a message written in Black sharpie in Michelle’s handwriting caught her eye: 

“The Witch is back and she brought her broomstick.”  
***   
Hillary figured the only way to go from here was to get really, really, _really_ drunk and to forget about the entire horrible day. As soon as the clock had struck five p.m. that day she had walked to the nearest bar which happened to be a hotel bar right across the street from the office. An hour later she was slumped at the bar finishing her third vodka martini. The world was feeling a little fuzzy already but Hillary had a perfect three martini kind of buzz going on.   
_The fuzzier and dizzier the better_ Hillary thought as she struggled to keep her balance on the bar stool.   
“I’d like another one, please,” she said, getting the bartender’s attention.  
Hillary watched as the bartender reluctantly prepared her a fourth vodka martini. He put the cocktail down on a fresh coaster for her, and also put a basket of French fries in front of her.   
“These are on the house, ma’am.”   
Hillary pushed the fries to the side.   
“I don’t want any food,” she told the bartender. “I don’t want anything soaking up the alcohol. I need it right in my bloodstream.”  
She started laughing hysterically at herself as she took a big gulp of her cocktail.   
“Do I look like a bitch to you?” she suddenly asked the bartender. “Honestly?”  
“No,” the bartender replied, awkwardly smiling at Hillary.   
“Well, I am. Apparently,” Hillary said, shrugging, taking another big gulp of her martini. “That’s what all my friends said.”  
“Some friends they are,” the bartender replied.   
“They used to be,” Hillary sadly responded, putting her drink down. “I don’t know where my life went wrong,” she added with a slurred voice.   
“That’s what they all say,” the bartender said, rolling his eyes. Clearly he had had bar patrons say this to him a million times before. “No one knows where it went wrong.”  
“No, but I _really_ don’t know,” Hillary explained. “I’m in this car accident and then suddenly...Boom! I wake up in the body of a bitch.”  
“It looks like you’re trapped in the body of a babe to me,” a fellow bar patron a few bar stools down from Hillary commented with a British accent as he got up and sat directly beside Hillary. “I wouldn’t trade that body for anything.”   
_What?_ Hillary thought to herself until the realization dawned on her. “Oh, you’re _flirting_ with me!” She started giggling. “Sorry. I’m married. To another guy. My husband.”  
She lifted her left hand and showed him her wedding ring. “See? Married...Also, I might be having an affair with my ex-husband.”  
She heard a muffled laugh from the bartender but when she looked up he had a straight face as he wiped the bar down.   
She took another gulp of her martini as she felt the room sway a bit and her ears buzz slightly.   
“You know, I’m not drinking to forget,” she said to the bartender. “I already forgot everything!” She started giggling uncontrollably. “I hit my head in a car accident and I forgot absolutely everything!” She was laughing so hard, tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I even forgot I was divorced and that I have a new husband! But I do!”   
“Um, Miss, should I call you a cab?” The bartender offered, exchanging glances with the British man.  
Hillary ignored him. “And they said there’s no cure. But doctor’s can be wrong, can’t they?”   
Quite a few people in the bar seemed to be listening and paying attention and a few of them nodded.   
“Doctors are always wrong,” The British guy said, nodding emphatically. “They’re all assholes!”  
“Exactly!” Hillary exclaimed.   
She saw the bartender begin to pour her a cup of coffee.   
_The nerve of him. I don’t WANT a coffee_ she drunkenly thought.  
She was about to tell him when her cell phone started ringing. After a minute of drunkenly fishing around in her purse for it she finally found it and answered it.   
“Hello?”  
“Hey, sweetie, it’s me,” Derek said. “I’m on my way home. I managed to sneak out of the office a little early tonight and I rented us some movies to watch. I’m on my way home now.”  
“Oh...that’s great!” Hillary answered, concentrating on trying to sound sober and on not slurring her speech.   
“Um...are you alright, honey?” Derek asked.   
“I’m fine!” Hillary insisted. “See you at home!” She abruptly hung up.   
“That was my husband,” she said to the bartender. “He can drive a speedboat, you know.”  
“That’s nice,” the bartender responded politely.   
“Yeah, it is,” Hillary nodded. “It’s great! We have the most perfect _perfect_ marriage...” Hillary drifted off as she realized something. “Except we haven’t had sex yet.”  
“You haven’t had sex with your husband?” the British guy asked in amazement.   
“Well I mean we _have_ had sex,” Hillary explained, taking another sip of her martini. “I just don’t remember it!”   
She started laughing uncontrollably again.   
“That good, huh?” The British guy asked. “He blew your mind, huh?”  
 _Blew my mind_ Hillary thought, _Blew my mind...._ It kept running through her head until she made a realization.   
“You know what?” She said, slowly and carefully, “You probably don’t realize it but that phrase is very sig...sigficant...significant.”   
She wasn’t sure if the words had come out properly because of her slurred speech but she knew what she meant.   
_Maybe if I have sex with Derek it’ll blow my mind and my memories with Derek will all come flooding back to me_ she excitedly thought to herself. _Maybe its nature’s own cure for amnesia!_  
She put her martini glass down on the bar with a thud.   
“I’m going to do it tonight! I’m going to go home and have sex with my husband!” 

To Be Continued...


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something to tide you all over just in case I don't have a chance to update before Christmas! :)

_I’m going to have amazing, mind-blowing sex with Derek_ Hillary thought, with excitement and anticipation as she rode home to the penthouse in the back of a taxi. _And everything will become clear again and I’ll remember why I fell in love with him in the first place._  
The only problem was that...she didn’t have the marriage manual on her and she couldn’t remember the exact order of foreplay. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the headache she could feel coming on. She tried to picture exactly what Derek had written and described in the marriage manual.   
_Was it neck, then chest...then inner thighs?_ She thought, trying desperately to remember.   
“Sorry?” Asked the cab driver.   
“Nothing!” Hillary said frantically, not realizing she had been speaking out loud.   
_What I don’t remember, I’ll just make up_ Hillary suddenly thought. _We can’t be some boring old married couple who has sex EXACTLY the same way every time, right?_  
Hillary felt a tiny bit of trepidation and regret in her gut but she tried to push it out of her mind.   
_This is going to be great_ Hillary excitedly thought as the cab pulled up in front of her apartment building. She paid the cab driver and smiled at the doorman when he opened the door to the building for her.   
As she traveled up to the penthouse in the elevator, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her white blouse and took her hair out of its tight bun. She ran her fingers through it so that it fell gracefully around her shoulders and down her back.   
“Derek!” She called out as the elevator arrived and she stepped into the apartment.   
He didn’t respond so she headed in the direction of the home office, stumbling slightly on her stiletto heels from the effects of the alcohol.  
She stopped in the doorway of the office and saw Derek was furiously typing away at his laptop, looking deep in concentration. There were papers strewn all over his desk. The launch party for his latest condominium project was only a few days away and Hillary knew he had been working nonstop preparing for the party, and working on the presentation that he would be giving at said party.   
“Derek,” Hillary said in the most husky and sexy voice that she could muster. But he was so deep in concentration that he didn’t hear her.   
“Derek!” Hillary tried again, a little louder than she intended to.   
Finally he turned around and noticed Hillary. He smiled at her.   
“Hi, hon! How was your first day back?”   
“Derek...I want you,” Hillary said, seductively as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Let’s have sex. I want you to blow my mind.”  
“Hills, have you been drinking?” He asked, squinting at her and tilting his head slightly to the right.   
“I might have had a martini...or four,” Hillary slurred, grabbing onto the door frame for balance. “But they made me realize what I want. What I _need_. I need sex, Derek.”   
“ _Okayyyyyy_ ,” Derek responded, raising his eyebrows. “Maybe you want to sober up and have some dinner? I’ll make you a cup of coffee and get you an aspirin. Lucinda made some fantastic grilled salmon and asparagus for din—”  
“I don’t want salmon!” Hillary whined. “We have to do _it_. It’s the only way I’ll remember you!”   
“Hills, please. I don’t want to rush you into anything. This is a major decision. The doctor at the hospital said we should take things slow and only do whatever you’re comfortable with...”  
“Well, I feel comfortable with us doing it right now,” Hillary said, shrugging, undoing the rest of the buttons on her blouse. “Please, Derek? I’m your wife after all.”  
“Well...alright then!” Derek finally said after a few seconds hesitation. He saved the document he had been working on and closed his laptop. He slowly walked over to Hillary, put his arms around her and started making out with her.   
“Are you comfortable, Hillary?” he whispered into her ear after a few moments of them kissing.   
“Yes!” Hillary whispered back.   
“So should we take this to the bedroom?”   
“Absolutely!”   
Derek led the way out of the office and towards the master bedroom with Hillary following him, stumbling slightly. Once they reached the bedroom, they resumed kissing and Derek pulled Hillary down onto the bed.   
Hillary started unbuttoning Derek’s shirt and kissing down his chest.   
_He’s so muscular..._ she thought, feeling his tight and defined abdomen muscles against her lips.   
“Are you comfortable with me touching your breasts?” Derek whispered as he started to undo her bra.   
“Sure,” Hillary murmured as she continued kissing his chest. “Oww!”   
“What? Are you okay?” Derek asked, jumping away from Hillary.   
“Yep, fine,” Hillary answered, “You just pinched my nipple.” She chuckled.   
“Sorry...” Derek apologized. “So, sweetheart, are you okay with me touching your stomach?”   
“Um...sure,” Hillary answered.   
_This is too weird and oddly formal_ Hillary thought to herself as Derek started giving her light and feathery kisses around her belly button.   
“You’re hot, Hillary. You’re so so hot, babe. This is so hot,” Derek kept saying, as he started undoing and pulling down Hillary’s black dress pants.   
“Hillary...babe,” Derek whispered, breathlessly right in her ear.   
“Yes?” Hillary asked, panting slightly.   
“Are you comfortable with me going inside—”  
Before she could stop herself, Hillary had quickly pushed Derek away from her and rolled away from him.   
“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, alarmed. “Hillary? What happened? Did you have a flashback?”  
“No,” Hillary said, biting her lip and feeling guilty all of a sudden. “I’m sorry, I just felt...”  
“I _knew_ we were rushing things,” Derek sadly sighed, and took both of Hillary’s hands into his own. “Hillary, you can talk to me. Why weren’t you comfortable? Was it a flashback or some sort of traumatic memory?”  
Hillary bit her lip again and frowned. She didn’t know what to say to Derek. He was staring at her so earnestly. Hillary took a deep breath.   
_Honesty is the best policy in a marriage_ she thought as she was preparing to come clean.   
“It wasn’t because of a flashback or traumatic memory,” she explained. “It was because you asked if you could go inside of me.”  
“And what’s wrong with that?” Derek asked, perplexed. “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable, Hillary.”  
“It’s just...not...you know. Not very sexy or spontaneous,” Hillary gave a small shrug.  
Derek leaned back against the headboard, frowning in confusion.   
“It wasn’t just that,” Hillary added. “It was the way you kept asking me every two seconds if I was comfortable. It made things a little bit...too formal. Right?”   
“I was just trying to be considerate,” Derek said, obviously a little pissed off. “This is a weird situation for the both of us.” He started angrily putting his shirt back on.   
“I know!” Hillary said, quickly, nodding in agreement. “And I really appreciate it. Truly. But maybe we should loosen up? And be more, I don’t know...natural?”   
“Do you want me to sleep in here tonight?” Derek offered. "That might be a start?"   
“Oh...” Hillary said, frowning.   
_What the hell is wrong with me?_ She suddenly thought. _Derek’s my husband. A few minutes ago I was ready to have sex with him. But now...the idea of him sleeping in here with me tonight, lying next to me all night feels...too intimate..._  
“Maybe we could wait on that, still? For a while? I’m sorry, it’s just...” Hillary trailed off.   
“It’s fine. I understand,” Derek said, brusquely. “I’ll just go and take a shower, I guess.”  
“Okay,” Hillary responded, realizing he wasn’t even making eye contact with her.   
She watched Derek leave the room and she slumped back against the headboard. She heard the water turn on in the guest room bathroom across the hall. The phone started ringing but Hillary ignored it figuring it was probably for Derek—until she realized he was in the shower. She reached over and picked up the cordless handset from its charging dock on the nightstand.   
“Hello?”  
“Hey,” Hillary recognized the familiar southern drawl. “It’s me. Bill.”  
“ _Bill?_ ” Hillary felt electric shocks running through her body. Even though logically she knew Derek was in the shower and was nowhere in sight, impulsively she ran into her en-suite bathroom with the phone and locked the door.   
“Bill, are you crazy?” she hissed in a hushed tone. “Why are you calling me here at the apartment? What if Derek answered? It’s too risky!”   
“I was hoping Derek would answer,” Bill replied, sounding confused. “I need to speak to him about some work related things. We’re having trouble getting the building permits for the Washington, DC development.”   
“Oh, right. Of course,” Hillary realized, feeling stupid. She cleared her throat and put on a more formal, corporate wifely tone of voice. “No problem, Bill. Let me go get him for you—”  
“But I need to speak to you even more,” Bill cut her off. “We _have_ to meet. We have to talk, Hillary.”  
“We can’t meet, Bill!” Hillary desperately insisted. “You have to stop this. Stop trying to talk to me. On the phone. And also not on the phone.”  
“Have you been drinking, Hill?” Bill asked suddenly. Hillary could hear him start to laugh.   
“No!” Hillary quickly answered while noticing her bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror. “Okay...I might have had a few vodka martinis. Maybe one...or four.”   
“Oh my God...I love you, Hill,” Bill chuckled.   
“You can’t love me. We’re divorced,” Hillary insisted.   
“I love you, Hillary. I really do. I love the girl you...were. No, the girl you still _are_.”   
“You love The Witch?” Hillary sharply retorted. “You love the boss bitch from hell? You must be strongly mistaken, Bill.”   
“Oh, Hilly,” Bill responded, still laughing. “You’re definitely not a boss bitch from hell.”  
“Everyone else seems to think I am,” despite being alone in the bathroom and knowing Bill couldn’t see her, she shrugged her shoulders. “Or that I was. Whatever.”   
“You were unhappy, Hillary. You were thrust into a position that you weren’t as prepared for as you thought. You definitely made mistakes but you were never a bitch. You could never be a bitch. In fact you’re the farthest thing from a bitch, Hilly.”   
Hillary smiled to herself. Bill always knew how to make her feel better about herself. She wanted to hear more.   
“So...what kind of mistakes did I make?” she asked.   
“I’ll tell you when we meet in person. We’ll talk about everything that happened. Oh, Hillary, I miss you so goddamn much...You have no idea...”  
“Bill, wait a minute,” Hillary suddenly stopped him. Whispering to her ex-husband over the phone while locked in the bathroom suddenly felt...dirty and wrong.   
_What am I getting myself into here?_ She thought to herself.   
“I need to think, Bill.”  
 _I mean just meeting for a drink and talking couldn’t hurt_ Hillary thought as she paced around the bathroom and ran her free hand through her hair trying to think rationally through her drunken haze.   
_No, absolutely not_ Hillary suddenly thought. _I can’t start seeing somebody behind Derek’s back. Even if it is Bill. I want my marriage to work._  
“Derek and I just had sex!” she blurted out, not even quite sure _why_ she said it.   
“And your point?” Bill asked, after several long seconds of silence.   
“Well, that obviously changes things. Right?”  
“I’m not following, Hillary,” Bill responded. “You think I won’t be in love with you anymore because you had sex with Derek? Your husband?”   
“I don’t know...Maybe,” Hillary stammered out.   
“Or do you think having sex with Derek somehow proves that you’re in love with him?” Bill asked.   
Hillary rolled her eyes. _God, he’s relentless_ she thought.   
“I don’t know!” Hillary frantically said, feeling even more confused and rattled. “I thought it might trigger some memories,” she explained to Bill. “It’s so frustrating. I _know_ my memory is there _somewhere_ in my brain but it’s tightly locked away. And if only I could get to the memories somehow...God, Bill, everything is so _frustrating..._ ”  
“Tell me about it,” Bill dryly said, sighing. “So how was it anyways? The sex.”  
“It was...” Hillary cleared her throat. “It was you know. Sex. You know what sex is like. You know what sex with me is like.”  
“I do know about sex,” Bill agreed. “I am keenly aware what sex with you is like, Hill. And I also know _all_ about what sex with Derek is like. He’s adept...and considerate...and I know he has _quite_ the imagination...”   
“Stop it, Bill!” Hillary interrupted. “You make those things sound like they’re _bad_ things...”  
“Hillary, please,” Bill cut her off. “We have to meet. Seriously.”   
“We can’t,” Hillary reluctantly whispered, desperately wishing that things were easier.   
“Hillary, I miss you _so_ much.” Bill was practically begging now. His voice was lower, and gentler. He was nearly whispering. “Hilly,baby, you have no idea how much I miss you. It’s tearing me up inside not being able to be with you and not being able to wrap my arms around you—”  
Hillary’s hand was damp with sweat around the phone and she could feel a familiar wetness forming in her underwear. She wanted to hear more...  
 _If everything he’s saying is true..._ she thought...   
“Listen, Bill, I have to go,” Hillary suddenly hurriedly said, instantly coming back to reality.   
_I’m a married woman for God’s sake_ she thought.   
“I’ll go and get Derek for you.”   
With shaky legs, she unlocked the bathroom door and walked across the hall to the guest bedroom, holding the phone as far away from her body as possible.   
“Hillary, please! Hilly, wait!” She could hear Bill begging through the outstretched phone but she ignored him.   
She heard the shower in Derek’s bathroom turn off.   
“Derek!” she called out in a bright and cheerful tone, and a moment later he came out of the bathroom with a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist. “The phone’s for you, honey. It’s Bill. Bill Clinton.” 

To Be Continued...


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody had a wonderful and lovely Christmas if you celebrated and I hope you enjoy this update :)

Hillary had done everything she could think of at work over the next few days to prove to her coworkers that she wasn’t a bitch. She had put up a sign-up sheet for a pub night but so far nobody had signed up. She had sent an email out extending an invitation to go to the movies with anyone who was interested but she hadn’t gotten any replies. Today she had brought in a box of pastries from a nearby bakery and set them right beside the fax machine with a note saying _Help Yourself!—From Hillary_.   
She had taken a casual stroll into the main office a few minutes ago, and for the entire morning not a single pastry had been taken.   
Hillary sighed to herself as she turned the page in the file she’d been reading, and then clicked on the corresponding electronic document on her computer. For the past few days while she had been trying to frantically catch up on five years worth of cases, she had been working on hard copy and electronic files simultaneously while cross-referencing everything.   
She yawned and rested her head on her desk. She was absolutely _exhausted_. She had been coming into work every day at seven a.m. and staying until eight or nine at night just to catch up on all of her cases and the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated while she had been off work. Her eyes were red, bloodshot, and sore from lack of sleep and all of the reading.   
She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands in order to force herself to stay awake and concentrate.   
She yawned again, closed the files and stood up, shaking out her legs a bit. She walked over to the doorway of her office and she could _just_ glimpse the box of pastries sitting right where she had left it hours ago, still untouched.   
She sighed to herself again.  
 _Maybe I need to make it absolutely clear that the pastries are free to take for everyone she_ figured before she walked back into the main Family Law offices.   
“Hey everyone!” She said cheerily. “I just wanted to say, these pastries are for all of you, from me. Fresh from the bakery today. So...you know...go ahead! Help yourselves.”   
She frowned when no one answered or even acknowledged her presence.   
“So, anyway,” she forced a smile. “Enjoy!”   
She turned on her heel and walked back to her office.   
She sat back down at her desk and opened a recent financial report for the firm. After a few minutes, she leaned back in her chair and started rubbing her tired eyes. She sighed. The figures just confirmed what she was already beginning to figure out: the Family Law department was doing terrible financially and losing clients left and right.   
She wrote a quick note to herself on a Post-it –“Discuss client retention with Samantha.” She had tried bringing it up with Samantha a few days ago but Samantha didn’t seem to care.  
 _How can she be so blasé?_ Hillary thought.   
She put her pen down.   
She couldn’t stop thinking about the pastries and she sighed to herself again.   
_Just leave it alone, Hillary_ she thought to herself. _Forget about it. They’re just pastries at the end of the day._  
But impulsively, Hillary leapt to her feet and walked over to the main offices again. The box of pastries was still untouched and people were typing away on their computers, doing paperwork, or talking on their phones, completely ignoring Hillary and the pastries.   
“So...” Hillary casually said, “Nobody wants a pastry? They’re really good pastries! Promise.”  
“Pastries?” Betsy asked, pretending to look confused. “I don’t see any pastries. Anyone seen any pastries?”  
Everyone shrugged as if they were equally confused.   
“They have pastries at Starbucks, we could send one of the assistants out for some,” Michelle said, barely being able to contain her giggles.  
 _Haha, very funny_ Hillary thought.   
“Fine,” Hillary said, trying to hide how hurt she felt. “If you want to be childish about it, then fine. Forget about it. I was just trying to do something nice for all of you.”   
Breathing heavily, she stormed off. She could hear laughter and giggling behind her. She tried to ignore it. She had to keep her dignity and remain boss-like but something inside of her was rising and building. Hurt and anger.   
_How can they all be so mean?_ She thought.   
“Actually, it’s not fine,” she marched back to the Family Law offices, her face burning. “Look, I thought it would be nice to surprise you guys and give you all a treat and now you’re pretending you don’t even _see_ them...”   
“I’m sorry, Hillary,” Betsy said, shrugging. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
Dana snorted with laughter—and Hillary snapped.   
“ _I’m talking about this!_ ” She grabbed a croissant and held it up to Betsy’s face. “It’s a croissant, a fucking croissant! Well fine, if you’re not going to eat it, I will!” She ripped off a huge hunk from the croissant and stuffed it into her mouth, chewing furiously. Then she ripped off another piece and took a bite. Crumbs were going everywhere; all over her and the floor but she didn’t care.   
“In fact, why don’t I just eat all of them?!” She grabbed a cherry Danish and started cramming that into her mouth too. “Mmmm, delicious!”  
“Hillary?”  
Hillary turned around and her stomach dropped. The firm’s managing partner, Jonah Humphrey, was standing there with Samantha.   
Samantha looked like she was about to burst out laughing and Jonah was warily staring at her.   
“J-Jonah!” She sputtered crumbs everywhere. “Um...hi. How’s it going?”  
“I just wanted a quick word, if you’re not too...busy?” Jonah asked her, raising his eyebrows.   
“Of course not!” Hillary answered, smoothing down her hair and desperately trying to swallow the mouthful of cherry Danish. “Let’s go talk in my office.”   
As they passed by a glass door and Hillary caught her reflection, she winced. Her eyes were all red and bloodshot from lack of sleep and her hair was all over the place because she hadn’t had time to put it up in a bun that morning.   
“So, Hillary,” Jonah said as Hillary shut the door to her office and threw her half eaten cherry Danish in the trash, “I just had a good meeting with Samantha about August 2000. I’m sure she’s been filling you in on the recent developments.”  
“Absolutely,” Hillary nodded, pretending that she knew what her boss was referring to but August 2000 meant absolutely nothing to her.   
“I’m scheduling a meeting for Monday where we’ll be making our final decision. I won’t say any more for now. And obviously, as you probably already know, Hillary, discretion is _crucial_...” he trailed off and frowned. “I know you’ve had your reservations, Hillary. We all have. But the truth is, we’re completely out of options right now.”   
_What exactly is he talking about?_ Hillary wondered.   
“Well, Jonah, I’m sure we can work it out,” Hillary bluffed, hoping that he wouldn’t ask her to elaborate.  
Jonah smiled at her, “I knew you’d come around eventually, Hillary. Anyway, I’m seeing Michael Ramirez for lunch today. One of the firm’s new investigators. What do you think of him?”   
Hillary sighed in relief, finally someone she had heard of from all her reading and catching up.   
“Well, I think he’s a great investigator from what I’ve read about him but he might not be the _best_ fit here at Rose and Associates. I think we’ll have to start looking for a new investigator soon.”   
“I would beg to differ, Hillary,” Samantha replied, laughing. “He’s a brilliant investigator and he’s recently offered the firm an improved rate for his services.”  
Hillary glared at her.   
“Hillary, don’t you agree with Samantha?” Jonah asked, looking at her in surprise. “Have you met Michael yet?”   
“I...um...well...no...I haven’t,” Hillary admitted, swallowing. “I’m sure...I’m sure you’re right, Samantha.”  
She _couldn’t_ believe that Samantha had just done that to her on purpose.   
_The NERVE of her_ Hillary thought.   
“Well, I must be off now,” Jonah awkwardly said while looking at Hillary in puzzlement and confusion. “Nice to see you, Hillary. Enjoy the rest of your day.”  
“Bye, Jonah,” she said, doing her best to sound professional and confident as she walked him out of her office. “I’m looking forward to catching up again soon. Maybe we can do that lunch you suggested?”  
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll get my assistant to put it on my calendar for next week,” Jonah replied.   
“Great!” Hillary enthusiastically answered.   
“Right,” Jonah said awkwardly after a pause. “Well, I’ll see you later, Hillary.”  
He left Hillary’s office with Samantha following behind him.   
“ _Now_ , do you see, Jonah? She’s absolutely lost it...” Hillary could hear Samantha saying.   
Hillary stood there, watching them walk down the hall towards the elevators, shaking in shock and anger.   
_That’s it. My career’s completely ruined_ Hillary realized.   
In a daze, she walked back into her office and sunk down into her desk chair.   
_I can’t do this_ she thought, putting her head in her hands. _I’m exhausted. Samantha’s misrepresenting me. My friends hate me..._  
At that last thought Hillary couldn’t help feeling a huge pang of hurt in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t help the tears that pooled in her eyes and suddenly she was convulsing with sobs. 

“Hillary?”   
A voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see Betsy standing in the doorway to her office.   
“Oh, hi,” Hillary said, reaching for the box of tissues on her desk and wiping her eyes hastily, not even caring that her eye makeup was probably ruined. “Sorry. I was just...”  
“Are you alright, Hillary?” Betsy asked awkwardly.   
“I’m fine. Fine. Really,” Hillary insisted, dabbing at her eyes. “Do you need something?”   
“Sorry, about the pastries,” Betsy said, biting her lip as she placed the box of pastries on the desk in front of Hillary. “We never thought Jonah would come up. We were just joking around.”  
“It’s all right,” Hillary replied with a shaky voice. “How were you to know?”  
“So what did he say?”  
“Well, he wasn’t impressed,” Hillary answered, sighing and shrugging her shoulders. “But he’s not been impressed with me in general since I came back anyways. So what difference does it make?”   
She grabbed a chocolate croissant from the box of pastries and tore a corner of it off before eating it. The chocolate and carbs made her feel a _little_ bit better.  
Betsy stared at her as she ate the croissant.   
“What?” Hillary asked, laughing a bit.   
“I thought you didn’t eat carbs anymore,” Betsy remarked.   
“Yeah, right. Like I could ever live without chocolate,” Hillary replied, taking another bite of the chocolate croissant. “Women need chocolate. That’s like a scientific fact.” She chuckled slightly to herself.  
“It’s so weird,” Betsy said, staring at Hillary uncertainly. “You _sound_ just like the old Hillary.”   
“I _am_ the old Hillary,” Hillary replied, sighing at the thought of having to explain everything all over again. “There is no new and old Hillary. It’s just me. Hillary. Bets...imagine you woke up tomorrow and it was suddenly 2005. Imagine you had a whole new life and you had to learn how to be a completely different person than you remembered being before. That’s what this is like for me.” She broke off another piece from the croissant and stared at it for a moment before putting it down again. “And I don’t recognize this new person. I don’t know why she is like she is or why she does the things she does. And it’s...really, _really_ hard.”  
There was a long silence while Hillary stared down at her lap, breathing heavily, not daring to look up at Betsy in fear of Betsy saying something sarcastic again or just laughing at her.   
“Hillary, I’m so sorry,” Betsy said quietly after a long pause. “I didn’t...I mean we didn’t realize. You don’t _look_ any different after all.”   
“I know,” Hillary replied, finally being able to look up and give Betsy an apologetic smile. “I look like Malibu Barbie.” She chuckled to herself. “When I saw myself in the mirror at the hospital for the first time after waking up, I was shocked. I nearly had a heart attack. I didn’t recognize myself.”  
“Look...” Betsy nervously responded, while playing with her watch. “I’m sorry. About the pastries, and for being mean to you, and about...everything. Why don’t we all go out for a girl’s night tonight? We can get french fries and sing karaoke...it’ll be like the old days. We can start again. What do you say?”   
“That sounds really nice, Betsy,” Hillary answered, smiling at Betsy gratefully. “But I’m so sorry. I can’t tonight. It’s the launch party for Derek’s newest condominium and he’d kill me if I missed it. Do you want me to get you and the girls on the guest list? I’m sure Derek would be okay with it. I think it’s going to be this really glitzy affair...”   
Betsy smiled, “That’s okay. But thanks for offering. Have fun at your party.”   
“Thanks,” Hillary replied. “So...a rain check on karaoke?”  
“Definitely,” Betsy agreed. She smiled at Hillary and turned around, beginning to walk out of Hillary’s office.   
“Hey, Bets? Wait a minute,” Hillary stopped her, when she realized that Betsy probably had answers to some of the questions she had about her new life. “Betsy, do you know how things ended between me and Bill? Or why we ended our marriage?”  
“No idea,” Betsy said, shrugging. “You never told us why you filed for divorce. It was a huge surprise to all of us. We all thought you and Bill were the perfect couple. But you shut us all out. Even me. It was like...all you cared about was your career all of a sudden. So in the end we stopped trying to maintain our friendship with you.”   
“I’m _so_ sorry, Betsy,” Hillary sincerely apologized, seeing the very real hurt and feeling of betrayal displayed across Betsy’s face. “I didn’t mean to shut you guys out. At least, I don’t _think_ I did...” Hillary started laughing to herself. “It’s so strange, apologizing for something I have no memory of whatsoever.”  
“Don’t worry, Hill. It wasn’t you. I mean, of course it _was_ you...but it also _wasn’t_ you I guess...” Betsy trailed off, seeming pretty confused herself.   
“See? It’s a strange situation to be in,” Hillary pointed out.  
Both Betsy and Hillary suddenly started laughing and giggling hysterically at the entire situation; laughing like they used to back in elementary school together; laughing like it was five years ago, as if nothing had ever changed between them to begin with. Hillary clutched her stomach, unable to stop laughing, realizing she hadn’t laughed like that with somebody since the accident. She immediately felt all her stresses and tension leave her body.   
“God, I’ve missed you, Hill,” Betsy said, trying to catch her breath.   
“I’ve missed you, too,” Hillary replied and collected her thoughts. “And really, Betsy. I’m sorry for whatever I was like, however I acted...whatever I did—”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Betsy reassured her, kindly but firmly. “Enjoy your party tonight, Hill.”  
***  
When she arrived home to the penthouse a few hours later, Hillary had been planning on asking Derek about her divorce from Bill while they were in the car on the way to the launch party. She figured she must have talked about it with Derek, surely. They must have talked to each other about their past relationships Hillary figured and her relationship with Bill was obviously a pretty significant one. But when she got off the elevator and entered the penthouse, she realized it definitely wasn’t the right moment to ask him. Derek was pacing around the living room, talking on his cell phone, and looking stressed and anxious.   
“Come on, Hills,” he said, cupping the receiver of the phone, “We’re going to be late!”   
“I know! I’m so sorry!” Hillary apologized. “I got pulled into an emergency conference call with the Los Angeles office right when I was heading out the door—”  
“I don’t care, just go get ready!” Derek snapped. “And shouldn’t your hair be up? You look unprofessional.” He gave Hillary a critical once over.   
“Um, of course, honey,” Hillary answered, feeling flustered.   
Anxiously and hurriedly, Hillary went upstairs, quickly changed into a black cocktail dress, put on her highest pair of black stiletto heels and swiftly put her hair up into her trademark bun. She accessorized with a diamond necklace and diamond earrings, before surveying herself in the mirror.   
She sighed to herself.   
_I look so boring_ she thought.   
She rooted around in her drawers for a fun accessory like a brooch or a hair pin or a scarf but she couldn’t find anything interesting.   
“Ready, Hillary?” Derek asked, walking into her walk-in closet. “You look fine, honey. Let’s go.”   
Hillary frowned; she had never seen Derek so tense and anxious before. The whole car ride to the party, he was on his phone and when he finally hung up, he was nervously drumming his fingers against his legs and staring out the car window.   
“I’m sure it’ll be a great evening,” Hillary encouraged him.   
“It has to be,” Derek replied, still staring out the window and not turning towards Hillary. “This is our big sales push. Lots of ultra-high networths. There’s going to be lots of press about this event. I’m going to turn this property into the talk of the city. Every New Yorker will want to live here.”   
As the car pulled up in front of Derek's latest property, Hillary couldn’t help marveling at the scene in front of her. There were spotlights everywhere, a red carpet for guests to walk down, and a few photographers waiting and milling around waiting to snap pictures of the arriving party guests. It kind of looked like the red carpet of a movie premiere.   
“Derek, this is amazing!” Hillary complimented and impulsively she squeezed his hand. “Tonight is going to be incredible. I just know it.”  
“I hope so,” Derek answered, and for the first time that evening, he turned towards Hillary and gave her a nervous but hopeful smile. The driver opened Hillary’s door for her and she grabbed her black Chanel clutch purse from where it had been resting on her lap.   
“Oh, and sweetheart? Before I forget,” Derek suddenly said, reaching into his pants pocket. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”   
He handed her a slip of paper.   
“What is this?” Hillary asked, smiling. Her smile turned into a frown when she saw what it was. It was an invoice. At the top was Derek’s name but he had crossed his name out and written in blue pen “Assigned to Hillary Johnson.” Hillary read the contents in absolute disbelief.   
_ABC Carpet and Home. Throw Pillow and Pillow Cover: quantity 1. To pay: $114.84._  
“Lucinda told me about the coffee stain on the throw pillow,” Derek explained. “She tried to get it out with stain remover but it didn’t work so I already ordered a replacement. You can settle up anytime. A check is fine, or go to the bank and get them to transfer the money into my account. Whatever is easier...”   
_He’s invoicing me?_ Hillary thought in disbelief.   
“You want me to pay for the throw pillow?” Hillary asked, with a slight laugh. This couldn’t possibly be real. She waited to see if Derek was joking. “Out of my own money?”  
“Well you’re the one who spilled the coffee on it, honey,” Derek pointed out, sounding serious. “Is there a problem, Hill?”   
“Well, it was an accident,” Hillary pointed out in return but judging from the expression on Derek’s face, she realized arguing with him would be futile. She sighed. “Its fine, honey.” She swallowed. “I’ll...write you a check. As soon as we get home.”  
“No rush,” Derek smiled, and gestured to the waiting driver who was still holding the door open for Hillary. “We’d better go inside.”   
_This is fine_ Hillary thought. _It’s fine for him to invoice me. This is obviously how our marriage works, I guess_. But a small voice in her head was also saying _No, that’s NOT how a marriage should work and you know it, Hillary_.  
She managed to force a big smile at the driver as she folded up the invoice and shoved it into her clutch purse. She then got out of the car, took Derek’s hand, and got ready to follow him down the red carpet.

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I wonder what Bill and Hillary will get up to at the party in the next chapter... ;) ;)


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope everybody had a great New Year's Eve however you chose to celebrate (or not celebrate)! Apologies for not updating sooner, I had friends over for New Year's Eve and then I wasn't feeling well on New Years Day. But anyways, here is the update you've probably all been waiting the entire story for so far haha. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Hillary exited the elevator, still holding Derek’s hand and walked into the penthouse loft where the launch party was being held. Hillary realized she hadn’t been wrong. It was a truly, seriously, glitzy and glamorous affair. It was the same penthouse show unit that Derek had taken her to visit a few days prior but it looked a lot different now than it had when Hillary had seen it. There was special lighting installed for the party that was giving the apartment a pink and purple glow, and there were floral arrangements and centrepieces everywhere. Pop music was blasting through loud speakers throughout the entire apartment. Hillary noticed caterers and servers circulating around the apartment in black uniforms carrying trays of champagne and appetizers. There were also PR people also dressed in all black who were walking around the party handing out gift bags. Hillary noticed Carla the interior designer and Bill, and a few other people who she didn’t recognize standing by the living room window, talking. Derek headed straight towards them.   
“People?” he asked. “Are we all set? Have we already done the rundown of the guest list? Brianna, you have the press list? Is everything under control?”   
“They’re here!” A young twentysomething girl in a gold cocktail dress ran over to Derek, nearly tripping over her high heels in the process. “The Rhodes just arrived! They’re early! And they’ve brought friends. And the Grant family is right behind them!”   
“Good luck tonight, guys,” Derek encouraged, giving his team high-fives and handshakes. “We can do this. Let’s sell these units.”  
Thirty seconds later, a young glamorous couple in their thirties entered the penthouse and Derek immediately greeted them with a huge smile and turned on his charm. He ushered them over to meet Carla, handed them glasses of champagne and a few minutes later, he was taking them out onto the terrace to show them the spectacular view of New York City that the apartment offered.   
Hillary noticed more people trickling in, and pretty soon, there was a small crowd gathered, talking amongst themselves and reading the brochure about the property that was being handed out to all the guests.   
Hillary noticed Bill across the room, in a navy blue suit, holding a glass of champagne, and also being his charming self while he smiled and nodded as he talked about the building and the design to some of the party guests.   
_He looks handsome in his suit_ Hillary thought to herself as she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray and took a sip.   
Occasionally she would glance over at Bill and then quickly look away again, feeling like butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach. She had no idea if Bill had noticed her in return but she didn’t think so. But all she was aware of, in the entire roomful of people, was him. Where he was, what he was doing, who he was talking to.   
She dared to take another glance at him and this time he caught her eye in return. He smiled at her and raised his champagne glass towards her in acknowledgment, while still carrying on the conversation he had been having with a female party guest.   
_Great, Hillary. That was real subtle_ she thought, her cheeks flaming pink.   
She took a big swig of her glass of champagne before purposely walking away and over to the penthouse’s dining area, so that she was out of Bill's line of sight. She was watching everyone arrive and mingle, and drinking her champagne quietly in the corner when Derek suddenly walked over to her.   
“Hillary, sweetheart.” He was frowning. “You look awkward, standing here by yourself in the corner. Come with me.”   
Before she could stop him, he had grabbed her hand and he was leading her firmly over to Bill, who was talking to another rich and glamorous looking couple by now.   
“Let me introduce my wife, Hillary,” Derek said, with a big grin. “She’s one of the biggest fans of the Johnson properties.”   
_I am?_ Hillary thought in confusion but she decided to fake things in front of the potential buyers for Derek’s sake.   
“Oh yes,” She said, with a plastered on smile. “Derek’s properties are absolutely amazing, aren’t they?”   
“Hi, Hillary,” Bill said, meeting her eye as Derek walked away again to greet another couple that had just arrived. “How are you?”   
“I’m fine. Thanks, Bill,” Hillary replied, trying to sound calm and acting like he was just any other guest at the party; like she hadn’t been fixating on him the entire time since she had arrived.   
She turned toward the couple, “So, how do you like the apartment?”  
The couple exchanged glances. “We have one concern,” the man said. “The space. We don’t think it’s big enough.”   
_Not big enough?_ Hillary thought in confusion. The penthouse was massive with large rooms and high ceilings. How could it not be big enough?   
“We think five thousand square feet is generous for a penthouse,” Bill offered. “And you could probably knock down the walls of two or even three units and combine them together if you needed more space.”   
“One other problem is the design,” the woman said.   
“The design?” Bill asked politely. “Is something wrong with the design?”   
“We like gold,” the man said. “Gold lamps. Gold curtains...”  
“Gold carpets,” his wife interrupted.   
The husband pointed to his brochure, “Here I see a lot of silver and chrome.”  
“I see,” Bill said, nodding politely. “Well obviously, you can customize and redesign the apartment to your own individual taste after moving in. Perhaps you could put in a gold-plated fireplace?”   
“A gold- plated fireplace?” the wife asked, uncertainly. “That wouldn’t be too much?”  
“Can you ever have too much gold?” Bill answered, politely, obviously trying his best to make a sale happen.   
Hillary took another big swig of her champagne and tried desperately not to burst out laughing.   
“Yes, well, we will think about it,” The husband said, and the couple walked away, muttering to each other.   
Bill finished his glass of champagne and Hillary finally let out the giggles she had been holding in.   
“Gold everything? Seriously?” Bill deadpanned, with a chuckle.   
“My thoughts exactly,” Hillary said, still gigging.   
“And Jesus Christ,” Bill remarked. “Not big enough? _Ten_ of our units from our affordable housing development would fit into this entire penthouse.”   
“Affordable housing?” Hillary asked, blankly.   
“Yeah. We only get permission to make a luxury property like this one if we promise to build some affordable housing units in low-income areas of the city,” Bill explained.   
“Oh right. Of course,” Hillary realized. “It’s just... Derek has never even mentioned anything about affordable housing before. I thought he only did luxury properties.”   
“Yeah well, I’d say his heart isn’t totally into that aspect of the job,” Bill remarked, a mix of amusement and anger flickering across his face as he grabbed a glass of red wine off of a passing tray.   
Suddenly, Derek was stepping up onto a small podium in front of the fireplace, as the lights dimmed and a spotlight fell on him. Gradually the chatter in the room started dying down and people were silent.   
“Welcome!” Derek announced, “Welcome to my latest property, the newest addition to my Johnson Properties series!” He swept his hands across the living room and all the members of his team, including Bill, gave a thunderous applause.   
Bill glanced over at Hillary as he took a step back, away from the crowd that had gathered around Derek, motioning for Hillary to follow him. After a second, she moved back too and followed Bill into a dark shadowy corner of the party, her eyes fixed straight ahead. She could feel electric shocks running through her body. She felt nervous and uneasy but she was also...strangely excited.   
“So, have any of your memories come back yet at all?” Bill casually asked as he took a sip of his wine.   
“Not yet,” Hillary answered, sighing.   
Behind Derek, a massive screen that had been set up was lighting up with images of different condo units from all angles. A pop song that Hillary didn’t recognize was playing and the room had become even darker. Hillary had to hand it to Derek—she could tell this was a great presentation.   
“You shouldn’t be hiding in the corner, Bill,” Hillary remarked. “This is your moment, too. Your penthouse. You designed this building. Frankly, you probably did more work on the entire project than Derek.”   
“Yeah, well,” Bill retorted, dryly. “I’ll let Derek take the praise and the glory. He’s welcome to it.”   
They watched as a picture of Derek in a suit and a hard hat at the building site while it was under construction flashed on the screen.   
“I don’t understand, Bill,” Hillary said quietly. “If you think Derek’s properties are for rich motherfuckers—your words—why do you design them?”   
“That’s a good question,” Bill replied, nodding as he took another sip of his wine. “The truth is, I should move on and just go freelance full-time. But I like Derek. He believed in me. I was struggling and having some trouble finding work after you left me, but he took a chance on me and hired my firm to work with his company. I owe him a lot and he _does_ run a great company, I have to admit...”   
“Wait, you _like_ Derek?” Hillary asked, shaking her head, totally confused. “If you like him so much, why do you keep telling me to leave him?”  
“I _do_ like him,” Bill insisted. “He’s honest and loyal and hardworking. He’s a nice guy for the most part. He’s a decent stepfather to Chelsea...” For a few minutes Bill was silent as they watched Derek’s presentation.   
“I don’t _want_ to purposefully ruin Derek’s life,” Bill suddenly said. “It wasn’t in my plan. We just...fell back in love with each other. It happened quite naturally actually.”   
“So then why...?”  
“Hillary, Derek doesn’t understand you. Not like I do,” Bill said, looking right into Hillary’s eyes and grabbing her hands. “He has no idea who you are.”  
“And you do?” Hillary retorted sharply.   
“I’ve known you for nearly thirty years, Hill. And for nineteen of those years, we were married.”   
Before Hillary had a chance to respond, the lights came back on in the room and a roaring applause broke out throughout the entire room.   
Instinctively, Hillary took a step away from Bill and they both watched Derek standing at the podium, taking in all of the applause and glory, as he glowed with an aura of success and wealth.   
“So, have you encountered one of Derek’s surprises yet?” Bill asked, smirking over at Hillary while he clapped for Derek.   
“Well he gave me a diamond necklace the first night I was home from the hospital if that’s what you mean?” Hillary asked, in confusion.   
“That’s not the kind of surprise I meant,” Bill teased, with sparkling eyes and a huge grin on his face.   
“Then what kind of a surprise are you talking about?” Hillary looked at Bill suspiciously.   
“You’ll see,” Bill answered, smirking.   
“Bill. Tell me.”  
“No, no,” Bill said, shaking his head and pressing his lips together as if he was trying not to laugh. He took a big swig of his wine to stop himself from laughing. “I couldn’t possibly spoil the surprise now, could I? Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”  
“Bill! Tell me!” Hillary giggled.   
“No.”   
Hillary sighed and rolled her eyes in frustration.   
Bill smiled at her. “Hey, Hill?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk?” Bill offered.   
Hillary felt her throat tighten.   
_This is an invitation_ she thought. _A challenge._  
She cleared her throat. Logically, she knew she should say no but her heart was telling her to say yes.   
“We could go out onto the terrace?” she offered. She had seen partygoers going out there to smoke and to check out the view. “I could use some air.”   
“I was actually thinking...we could go upstairs,” Bill suggested, glancing towards the staircase.   
Hillary followed his gaze. “Um, yes. Sure...That would be fine.”   
Feeling giddy and slightly light-headed from the champagne, she followed Bill through the crowd, up the stairs to the apartment’s second floor, and into the master bedroom. No one even noticed them sneaking away. All the attention was still on Derek downstairs in the living room.   
Bill closed and locked the bedroom door behind Hillary as they entered the room.   
“So...” Bill began.   
“Look, Bill,” Hillary said, suddenly regretting her decision to come upstairs with him. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be carrying on this way. All this whispering and sneaking around. I don’t want to sabotage my marriage, Bill. I’m happy with Derek! At least I think I am.”  
“No, you’re not,” Bill insisted, shaking his head. “You won’t be with him a year from now. I can almost guarantee it.”   
“Yes, I will!” Hillary retorted but something felt uneasy about the way Bill sounded so confident and sure of himself. “I’ll probably be with him for the next thirty years!” She shot back.   
Bill shrugged. “You’ll try, Hillary. You’ll try your best. You’ll try to mold yourself into becoming a perfect trophy wife for him...but that’s not you, Hill. You’re too smart and ambitious to be someone’s...prize. And pretty soon you won’t be able to stand it anymore and you’ll want to be your own person again.” He exhaled deeply. “I’ve already seen it happen to you once. And I _really_ don’t want to see it happen again. We could do amazing things together, Hillary. I want to help you make the world a better place.”   
“Thank you for the warning, Bill,” Hillary snapped. “And well, when that happens, I’ll call you. Okay? How’s that? Now if you would excuse me, I’m going to go and get some air.”   
She headed for the bedroom door but Bill blocked her from leaving the room and instead he came closer to her, his eyes intense and questioning. “Hillary, you really, _really_ don’t remember anything about our affair?”   
“No!” Hillary insisted. She felt like bursting into tears. She was so tired of this. “For the millionth time, my memory isn’t back yet and I don’t remember _anything_.”   
Bill’s face was only inches away from Hillary’s and he was studying her expression as if he was searching for something. “All the time we’ve spent together over the last eight months, all the things we’ve said...there has to be _something_ that will trigger your memory.” He frowned. “Do crossword puzzles mean anything to you?”   
Hillary shrugged, “Not really. I mean, I remember you doing them all the time when we were married, and I _like_ crossword puzzles...”  
“Reading poetry together? Putting hot sauce on scrambled eggs?”  
“That’s all stuff from when we were married, Bill,” Hillary pointed out, helplessly.   
“Making homemade pizza together?” Bill tried. “Banana pancakes?”   
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bill,” Hillary answered, feeling frustrated. “None of this means anything significant to me. It’s not triggering any memories.”   
Bill was so close to her, Hillary could feel his warm breath on her skin. His eyes hadn’t left hers.   
“What about this? Does this mean anything to you?” Bill asked, cradling her cheeks, moving his hands up and down her face, running his thumbs up and down along her jaw line.   
“Bill...”   
“Or this?” He leaned down and gently kissed Hillary’s neck.   
“Bill, stop it,” Hillary said weakly but she could barely get the words out. And truthfully, she didn’t want him to stop. Her breathing was getting shorter and shorter and she could feel herself getting wet. She desperately wanted to kiss him. Wanted to kiss him in a way she had never wanted to kiss Derek.   
And then suddenly, it was happening. Hillary closed her eyes as she felt Bill’s soft lips crush against hers and everything felt right in the universe again. He smelled and tasted familiar. They gently moved their lips and tongues against each other, in familiar rhythmic motions. It was as if no time at all had passed between them. When they finally opened their eyes and broke for air, Bill gently led Hillary over to the bed and tenderly pushed her down onto it. They resumed kissing and Hillary felt Bill’s strong arms wrap around her. She moaned as Bill deepened the kiss.   
She felt Bill’s hand going up her dress and into the waistband of her black lacy thong. He started gently flicking her clit.   
“God, you’re so wet,” Bill said huskily.   
“Bill...” Hillary moaned. She was grateful for the loud music that was blasting throughout the party because it would hide her moans.   
“Is this okay, Hillary?” Bill checked.   
“God...Yes. Keep going...” Hillary moaned. “That feels so good...” 

“Hello? Is someone in there?” Carla’s voice suddenly came through the door along with three knocks.   
And abruptly, it was as if someone had electrocuted Hillary. She quickly pushed Bill off her and scrambled off of the bed as fast as possible, tripping over her shaky legs and her stiletto heels.   
“Fuck!” She cursed under her breath.   
“Shh!” Bill looked surprised, too. “Just stay calm. I’ll handle this.” He unlocked the door and opened it. “Hi, Carla. What’s up?”  
“Is everything okay?” Carla asked, poking her head into the room. “I’m about to bring a group of guests up here for the tour...”  
“Everything’s fine,” Bill reassured her. “I was just giving Hillary a...private tour.”   
“Oh, okay,” Carla said. “Well, I’m going to bring those guests up in about five minutes or so.”   
“No problem,” Bill said, smiling at Carla. “Hillary wants to see the terrace next.”   
As soon as Carla walked away, Bill closed the door again, and came back over to Hillary.   
“Hillary.” He grabbed her face and she wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss her again, or hug her, or maybe both. “If only you knew, Hillary. This whole situation has been _torture_.”   
“Bill, stop it!” Hillary backed away from him, already regretting what she had just done with him. Her mind was whirling and swirling a hundred miles a minute. “Bill, I am a married woman! We can’t...You can’t just...”   
She stopped as they heard Carla’s voice coming up the stairs and down the hallway. She was leading a tour of party guests.   
Bill grabbed Hillary’s hand and led her out of the room just as Carla was walking towards the master bedroom with the tour group. Hillary and Bill smiled and nodded politely at them in passing. They walked down the hallway together and stopped at the top of the stairs. Bill squeezed Hillary’s hand.   
“We haven’t finished talking yet, Hill. Okay?”   
All Hillary could do was nervously nod and smile as Bill reassuringly squeezed her hand again one final time, before he walked down the staircase and disappeared somewhere amongst the crowd of party guests. 

To Be Continued...


	18. Chapter 17

Hillary waited at the top of the stairs for a few minutes before she inconspicuously walked down the stairs and tried to blend in with the crowd. She grabbed a glass of white wine from a passing tray and took a big gulp.   
“Sweetie!”   
A woman’s voice from behind her took her out of her thoughts and made her jump in surprise. She turned around and Whitney was standing there, in a tight and skimpy skin-tight silver cocktail dress and matching silver stiletto heels that made her tower over Hillary.   
“Oh, hey!” Hillary politely greeted her.   
“Hillary.” Whitney was giving her an inquiring look. “Sweetie...can we talk? About Bill. I noticed that you were talking to him earlier.”   
“Yeah...it was about Chelsea’s tuition for next semester,” Hillary made up on the spot, suddenly feeling nervous. Had Whitney noticed or seen something? “And then since y’know, Bill’s the architect and all, we got to talking about the design of the building, as you do...” She tried to sound as carefree and casual as possible.   
“Hillary...” Whitney took Hillary’s arm and led her away from the crowd, into a quiet corner of the party. “I know you hit your head in the car accident and everything.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But do you _remember_ anything about Bill? From the past five years? Excluding what you remember from when you were married to him obviously.”   
“Um...not really. Like I’ve explained, the past five years are a complete blank.”   
Whitney pulled Hillary even closer to her. “Okay, sweetie, this might come as a bit of a shock...” she said in a low voice. “A while ago, you told me something in confidence. Best friend to best friend, woman to woman. I didn’t say anything to Derek. Not a word...”   
_Oh my God. Does Whitney KNOW about the affair?_ Hillary nervously thought. She tightened her grasp on the stem of her wine glass, listening to Whitney, completely transfixed.   
“I know this is going to seem really hard to believe, but something was going on between you and Bill. Behind Derek’s back.”  
“You’re kidding!” Hillary replied, trying to play it cool but her cheeks were burning. “Like what exactly?”   
“Well, I really don’t want to have to tell you this...” Whitney glanced around the room and leaned closer to Hillary. “Bill kept bugging you. Bothering and pestering you. I just thought I should warn you in case he tries it again.”  
“Bothering me?” Hillary asked, perplexed. “Wh-what do you mean?” she stammered.   
“What do you think? He’s tried it on all of us,” Whitney replied, scoffing, in a disgusted tone of voice.   
“You mean...” Hillary began, trying to process everything. “You mean he’s tried it on with you too?”   
“ _Oh my God, yes_ ,” Whitney rolled her eyes. “He told me Dan doesn’t understand me. Which _is_ true,” she chuckled. “Dan’s an idiot. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave him and be a notch on Bill’s bedpost, does it? And he went after Vanessa Klein, too,” She gestured at a woman in a purple dress who was standing nearby. “The _nerve_ of him. He said he knew her better than her own husband did, and that she deserved more. He told her she was a sensual woman...and all kinds of ridiculous and disgusting things.” She scoffed again. “Vanessa’s theory is that he targets married women and tells them whatever he thinks they want to hear. He probably gets some weird kind of kick out of it...”  
Hillary’s face was frozen in shock.   
“Oh, sweetie, don’t _worry_!” Whitney reassured her, after seeing Hillary’s facial expression. “There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just an irritating pest. Like an irritating fly, you just have to swat him away. But he was _quite_ persistent with you in particular. You were, like, his big challenge. You know, being his ex-wife and Derek’s wife, and all?” She stared at Hillary curiously and raised her eyebrows. “Sweetie, you don’t remember any of this?”   
Carla walked past them, taking another group of guests on a tour. Whitney politely smiled and waved at them but Hillary was frozen; she was unable to speak or move.   
“No,” Hillary managed to say, at last. “I don’t remember any of it. So...what did I do about it?”   
Whitney shrugged, “You kept telling him to leave you alone. It was _so_ awkward. You didn’t want to ruin his relationship with Derek or Chelsea of course. You were scared of rocking the boat. But you were _very dignified_ about the entire situation, sweetie. You handled it better than I would have! I would have thrown a drink in his face!” She suddenly glanced over her shoulder at her husband, Dan. “Hill, sweetie, I’ve just got to dash and have a word with Dan about our dinner arrangements for later tonight. He reserved the wrong table at our favorite restaurant. Like I said, he’s an absolute _nightmare_...” She paused and nervously stared at Hillary. “Are you okay, Hillary? I mean, I just thought that I should warn you...”   
“I’m fine,” Hillary replied, coming back to reality. “I’m glad you told me.”   
“I mean, I know you would never fall for his bullshit, you’re smarter than that, Hill,” Whitney smiled and reassuringly squeezed Hillary’s arm.   
“Of course not!” Hillary replied, managing to chuckle. “Of course I wouldn’t!”   
Whitney wandered away but Hillary was still frozen in shock.   
_I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life_ she thought, as she took a big gulp of her wine. _I was so gullible...so vain. I believed it all. I believed him and it was all just a game to Bill..._  
The things he had said to her ran through her mind.   
_We’ve been having a secret affair...I know you better than Derek does...You’re not happy with Derek..._  
 _He took advantage of my memory loss_ Hillary angrily thought. _It was all bullshit. All he wanted was to get me into bed like...a trophy._  
Hillary shuddered in disgust. She felt absolutely mortified.   
_I KNEW I would never have an affair_ she thought, feeling slightly vindicated. _I’m not the unfaithful type. I have an amazing husband who loves me._  
She couldn’t believe she had almost ruined her marriage to Derek by nearly having sex with Bill that night.   
_Now I know where my priorities lie...with Derek_ Hillary thought, taking slow sips of her wine.   
She took a deep breath, confidently lifted her head high, and confidently walked through the crowd until she found Derek. She reached for his hand and clasped her fingers through his.   
“Sweetheart! This party is amazing. You’re brilliant!”   
“Thank you, honey. I think we pulled it off,” Derek responded, seeming the most relaxed and calm that he had been all evening. “Oh look, honey, there’s Bill!”   
Hillary squeezed Derek’s hand even tighter as Bill approached them. She didn’t even want to look at him.   
Derek patted Bill on the back and passed him a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Here’s to you! Here’s to you, Bill! None of this would have been possible without your brilliant vision and guidance.”   
“To Bill,” Hillary echoed flatly, taking a small sip of wine.   
Carla suddenly approached them. “Sorry to bother you, Derek, but The Brennans are on their way out and they want to say goodnight.”  
Derek nodded, “Of course.” He turned to Hillary and Bill. “Excuse me for just a moment.” He followed Carla and disappeared in the crowd.   
“Hillary, we have to meet and talk,” Bill suddenly said.   
_I can’t believe this_ Hillary thought. She gave Bill as icy and cold a stare as she could muster.   
“We can go to O’Grady’s Pub. Any weeknight after six,” Bill continued, ignoring the look Hillary was giving him. “We have so much to talk about, Hill.” He leaned in closer to her. “I love you so much.”   
Hillary could feel her cheeks burning with fury and rage. Whitney’s words rang through her head. _You just have to swat him away..._  
“You love me?” Hillary retorted, incredulously. “Sure. I bet you thought it was _so funny_ taking advantage of your ex-wife who’d lost her memory. Well I know about your stupid game, okay? Whitney told me. I’m married, Bill. Please leave me alone from now on.”   
“Game? What game?” Bill asked seeming genuinely confused until realization dawned on his face. “Oh my God, Hillary, that was our _cover_ story. So that Whitney and your other friends didn’t find out about us.”   
“I don’t care,” Hillary scoffed. “I don’t want to hear it, Bill. You’re disgusting.”   
Derek walked back over to them with a big grin on his face. “Guess what?! The Brennans want a repeat viewing tomorrow afternoon. I think that will be another sale. That’s six units already, tonight alone.”  
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Hillary gushed, wrapping her arm tightly around Derek’s waist. “I’m so proud of you, honey!”   
Bill turned away from them and rolled his eyes.   
“You know what?” Hillary said to Derek. “I love you even more right now than I did on our wedding day.”  
Derek frowned, looking confused. “But, honey, you don’t remember our wedding day. So how can you remember how much you loved me that day?”   
_Ugh, why does he have to be so literal all the time?_ Hillary thought, annoyed.   
She took a deep breath to control her impatience. “Well however much I loved you that day...I love you more now.” She put her wine glass down on a nearby table and, giving Bill a defiant look, she pulled Derek in for a kiss. She gave Derek a nice deep, passionate, long, and slurpy kiss; at one point Derek tried to pull away but Hillary just wrapped her arms around him tighter, forcing him to keep kissing her. Finally when they were forced to break for air, Hillary pulled away from him, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and looked around the room. 

Bill had disappeared.

To Be Continued...


	19. Chapter 18

The next morning Hillary was still a little shaken from what had happened with her and Bill the night before at the party.   
_My marriage is my priority. From now on I’m going to focus on my marriage to Derek, and nothing else_ Hillary thought to herself as she grabbed the jug of green juice out of the fridge and poured herself a glass.   
She couldn’t believe she had nearly jeopardized her marriage to Derek the night before, to almost have sex with Bill.   
_I must have been crazy last night_ she thought to herself. _I have a dream husband and Bill and I must have gotten divorced for a good reason. Why would I ruin my perfectly good marriage to Derek to have sex with my ex-husband?_  
She took a sip of her green juice and winced at the bitter taste. She hated it but she had to drink it every morning because she couldn’t disappoint Derek; he acted as if green juice was the end all and be all and like it was God’s gift to the universe. Next, she poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot that Lucinda had made earlier, and scraped her egg-white omelette out of the frying pan onto a plate. She had really been getting into the low-carb lifestyle as of late (except for the occasional bagel or pastry she sometimes got on the way to work. Only if she was still hungry).   
As Hillary sat down to eat her breakfast, the apartment felt calm but Hillary was still on edge from the night before.   
_What if I had taken things even further with Bill? What if Derek had found out?_ She thought to herself in horror.   
“Morning!”   
Derek walked into the kitchen, looking bright and cheerful. Hillary wasn’t surprised. Last night’s launch party was the best one the company had ever had, apparently, according to Derek.   
“How did you sleep, honey?” Derek asked, giving Hillary a quick peck on the top of her head.   
“Fine, thanks!”   
They weren’t sharing a bedroom yet and Hillary hadn’t been ready to attempt to have sex with him again but... _if I seriously want to make my marriage to Derek work, maybe I should try to become more comfortable being physical with him_ Hillary thought to herself.   
She got up to get that day’s newspaper from the living room and deliberately brushed up against Derek.   
“You look amazing this morning, honey,” Hillary complimented, smiling at Derek.   
“Thanks! So do you, sweetheart!”   
She reached up and touched Derek’s left cheek. Derek looked at her questioningly as he put his hand on her right cheek in response. Hillary glanced at the kitchen clock out of the corner of her eye.   
_There isn’t enough time to have sex. Thank God_ she thought. _No...I didn’t just think that. I need to think positively. Sex with Derek is going to be fantastic, I know it._  
“So...how are you feeling this morning, Hillary?” Derek asked, with a slight smirk.   
“Oh, I’m fine! In a bit of a rush this morning though!” Hillary answered as she quickly maneuvered herself away from Derek and took a big gulp of her coffee, hoping that Derek would take the hint, before he could suggest a quickie on the kitchen table.   
_Thank Goodness_ Hillary thought to herself when Derek seemed to understand. He poured himself a cup of coffee and walked into the living room to retrieve the newspaper. Hillary followed him.   
“Hey Hill?” Derek suddenly asked as he reached for the newspaper.   
“Yes, sweetheart?”   
“I was thinking...maybe it’s time to start planning our annual summer vacation? I mean summers halfway over already,” Derek pointed out.   
“Oh, yes, a vacation...” Hillary pondered, “That sounds absolutely wonderful!” She plastered on a smile for Derek. “Where were you thinking of going?”   
“Maybe Italy?” Derek suggested. “We’ve never been and I’ve heard it’s _fantastic_ at this time of year.”   
“Italy would be...lovely,” Hillary managed, not used to taking such lavish and expensive vacations.   
“Hillary, are you sure you’re okay?” Derek checked. “You seem a little dazed.”   
“I’m fine, really,” Hillary insisted. “Just a bit tired from last night’s party still,” she made up on the spot as she took one more sip of her coffee, put on her blazer, and picked up her briefcase. “Anyways, I really have to go now before I _am_ late. Bye, sweetheart. See you later tonight.”   
“Bye, honey,” Derek replied, before coming over to her and kissing her goodbye.   
Hillary was about to press the elevator’s ‘down’ button when something hit her.   
“Hey, Derek?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Do you ever...surprise me?”   
“Surprise you?” Derek asked, scrunching his face up before something seemingly must have come to him and his face lit up in disbelief. “You’re kidding me, Hillary. Do you remember one of my surprises?”   
“Um...”   
_Okay, I can’t say “No, Bill told me.”_ Hillary nervously thought.   
“No, I don’t _remember_ exactly...” Hillary began. “But I have this vague memory of you surprising me with something. Maybe you could tell me a more detailed story about what your surprises are like?”   
“You’ll find out, sweetheart,” Derek replied, grinning. Hillary could see the pleasure spreading across Derek’s face. “I won’t say any more for now. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a surprise, right?”   
“Right!” Hillary answered, chuckling and trying to mimic Derek’s excitement. “Well...see you tonight, honey!”   
Hillary got on the elevator, racking her brain for what the surprise could be. A new piece of jewelry? A nice dinner at a fancy restaurant? A surprise party?   
_I have absolutely no idea_ Hillary thought in frustration.   
***  
Hillary had decided to take the subway to work that day instead of a taxi for a change. She got off at her stop, and bought a latte and a blueberry muffin at a nearby coffee shop. But as she got closer and closer to the office, her stomach was filling with dread. She really wished she didn’t have to go into the office and face everyone. She may have begun to repair her friendship with Betsy, but nobody else liked her. She had embarrassed herself in front of her boss and she was still hopelessly behind on all of her cases.   
_Come on, you can do this, Hillary_ she mentally gave herself a pep talk as she walked into the office building and got onto the elevator. What other choice did she have?   
As she got off the elevator at her floor, she headed straight to her office and didn’t stop to talk to or greet anybody, except for a slight reassuring friendly smile that she gave to her assistant, Elizabeth. She set her muffin off to the side of her desk to have as a snack later that morning and as she sat down, she immediately pulled her pile of papers and folders from the day before towards her. She started reading one of the files but she didn’t get very far into it because of a sudden knock on her office door.   
“Come in,” she called out.   
“Hi, Hillary?” Dana opened the office door a crack, and gently edged her way into the room.   
“Oh,” Hillary said, nervously. She cleared her throat. “Hello, Dana.”   
“How are you?” Dana awkwardly asked. “Is now a good time to talk? Elizabeth said you were free.”   
“Now’s...fine,” Hillary said apprehensively. Dana opened Hillary’s office door all the way to reveal that Betsy and Michelle were standing there too.   
“Oh, hey!” Hillary remarked, surprised. “Do you guys need something? Is everything okay?”   
“I told them about our conversation yesterday,” Betsy explained. “Last night we went out for dinner, and I told them what you told me.”  
“We didn’t realize,” Dana said, looking apologetic. “We didn’t give you a fair chance. We just assumed you were still...”   
“A power-crazed boss from hell,” Michelle interrupted.   
“We feel really bad,” Dana added, biting her lip and glancing at Betsy and Michelle. “Right?”   
“Don’t worry. Really,” Hillary insisted, faking a smile. Even though they were apologizing and willing to give her a second chance, she just felt more alone than ever. They had always been best friends and a foursome to be reckoned with, but now they had had five years of fun adventures, hangouts, gossiping, and laughing together that Hillary either couldn’t remember or that she had missed out on.   
_They’ve become a trio and I’m the outsider_ Hillary suddenly realized.   
“So, I just wanted to give you this,” Dana said, walking towards Hillary’s desk, blushing slightly. She handed Hillary a cream colored envelope. Hillary opened it and pulled out a gold engraved wedding invitation.   
“I hope you can make it. I know its short notice,” Dana said, bashfully, putting her hands in her blazer’s pockets. “You _and_ Derek, I guess.”   
Hillary could tell from her former friend’s body language that the _last_ thing Dana wanted was Hillary and Derek at her wedding.   
“Look, Dana, this is really kind of you, but you don’t have to—” Hillary started while trying to awkwardly stuff the wedding invitation back into the envelope.   
“Yes, I do,” Dana assured Hillary, putting her hand on top of Hillary’s to stop Hillary from putting the invitation back. “You used to be one of my best friends, Hillary. I know things have changed, _a lot_ , but I want you there. You should be there. I want you to be included in my special day.”   
“Well...thank you,” Hillary managed to say, feeling slightly overcome with emotion but managing to hold it in. “I’ll be there for sure. I wouldn’t want to miss it.”   
“We’ve brought some pastries, too,” Betsy said. “To make up for yesterday...”   
She stopped when there was a slight knocking at the door. Jonah Humphrey was standing in Hillary’s doorway.   
“Oh, Jonah, hello,” Hillary said, feeling slightly frazzled and caught off guard all of a sudden. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”   
“Hillary,” he warmly smiled. “Are you available for a quick chat?”   
“We’ll go,” Betsy said, ushering the other two girls out. “Thanks for that...um...advice, Hillary. It was very helpful.”   
“Bye, Betsy. See you later,” Hillary responded, giving Betsy a grateful smile.   
Betsy returned the smile and left Hillary’s office.   
“I won’t take up too much of your time, Hillary,” Jonah said, closing the door after the girls had left. “I just wanted to give you the final plans for Monday’s meeting. Obviously, keep this information to yourself. Within this department, only you and Samantha have this information so far.”  
He walked towards Hillary’s desk, holding a manila folder out towards her.   
“Of course,” Hillary said, nodding in a polite and businesslike manner, even though she had no idea what he was talking about, as usual. “Thanks.”   
She took the folder from her boss and she noticed _August ’00_ was labelled discreetly in the upper right hand corner. She suddenly felt her stomach sink, not even knowing what August 2000 was; but sensing that it was something bad. She had searched through all her files the day before, both hard copies and electronic files, but she hadn’t found anything about what August 2000 was.   
_I know I should have asked Samantha_ Hillary suddenly realized but she had been too proud to ask for help. _I wanted to figure it out for myself_ she sadly thought to herself.   
“I’m really looking forward to the meeting!” Hillary said as convincingly as possible, patting the folder.   
“Great! It’s Monday, at nine a.m. sharp, in the main boardroom. A couple of the other managing partners have to leave promptly at nine-thirty for a trial.”   
“See you Monday morning,” Hillary said enthusiastically with a confident smile. “Thanks, Jonah.”   
As soon as Jonah left her office, Hillary cracked the file open. She quickly ran her eyes down the text on the first page which was titled “Summary.”   
_August ’00...major restructuring...realignment of the firm...overall rethink..._  
As Hillary realized what she was reading, she suddenly felt sick to her stomach.   
_No wonder this is such a big secret_ Hillary suddenly realized.   
The whole firm was basically being restructured. They were amalgamating several departments and putting more of a focus on corporate law compared to other departments, leaving several departments redundant.   
She read the next page.   
_In the context of current client retention rates...plans to disband..._  
 _What? That can’t possibly be right..._ Hillary thought.   
She read the paragraph again. And again.   
_No...No...This can’t....this can’t mean what I THINK it means..._ Hillary thought in horror.   
She felt chills running up and down her spine, as she felt frozen to her chair.   
With a sudden rush of adrenaline and anger, she leapt to her feet and ran out the door and down the hallway. She saw Jonah Humphrey waiting for the elevator, chatting with Samantha.   
“Jonah!” She called out. “Could we have a quick word before you go?”   
“Hillary?” He looked up at her, frowning. Clearly he was irritated.   
“Hi,” Hillary said, looking left and right to make sure nobody was around to possibly overhear them. “I was just wondering if it was possible to...clarify a few things. These plans to disband the Family Law department.” She held up the folder with her right hand. “This can’t possibly be...you can’t possibly really mean...”   
“She’s finally lost it,” Samantha said, crossing her arms and shaking her head with a big smirk on her face.   
_Wait, she KNEW about this?_ Hillary thought to herself in anger. She wanted to slap Samantha.   
Jonah sighed. “Hillary, we’ve gone over this many times already. It’s tough out there. Especially in a major city like New York. You’ve done marvelously with the Family Law department—we all appreciate that very much. And you’ll be handsomely rewarded for your wonderful efforts. But the department is unsustainable.”   
“But you can’t get rid of Family Law!” Hillary argued. “Family Law is how Rose and Associates got its start!”   
“Shhh, keep your voice down, Hillary!” Jonah admonished, looking aware to make sure nobody had overheard Hillary’s outburst. His usual kind and pleasant demeanour had disappeared. “Hillary, I cannot have these kinds of disruptions. It’s extremely unprofessional of you.”   
“But—”  
“Please do not worry about this, Hillary. You and Samantha will both have new roles at the firm as Senior Partners. It’s all been very carefully worked out and arranged over the past several months. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t have time for your silly antics.” The elevator arrived and he got on.   
“But, Jonah,” Hillary pleaded. “You can’t just _fire_ the _entire_ department...”  
But it was too late. The elevator doors had shut.   
“It’s not called firing,” Samantha sarcastically said. “It’s called being laid off. Jesus, Hillary. Get your terms right.”   
“How can you just _stand_ there?” Hillary retorted. “And smirk and laugh? And how come I didn’t know anything about this?”   
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Samantha mocked, clicking her tongue. “I’m sorry, Hillary. It’s difficult to know where to start when you’ve forgotten, hmmm...let’s see. Pretty much everything.”   
“Where are the files about this decision? I want to read them. Why didn’t someone give me a copy before?” Hillary demanded.   
“I might have borrowed them,” Samantha answered, shrugging, before she turned around and started walking towards her office. “See ya later, Hillary.”   
“No, wait!” Hillary ran after her and followed her into Samantha’s office. “I still don’t understand. Why are they getting rid of the entire department?”  
“Jesus Christ, Hillary. Have you even _looked_ at our client retention rates recently?” Samantha asked, rolling her eyes.   
“But they’ve been going up lately!” Hillary argued, but she immediately realized it was the wrong tactic to take with Samantha.   
“By two percent,” Samantha scoffed. “Face it, Hillary. Family Law is old news, at least at Rose and Associates. People would much rather go to other firms for their divorces and child custody cases. There are only a few more cases and trials to finish out. The party’s over.”  
“But we can’t just lose the entire department,” Hillary tried. “Divorces are pretty lucrative, right? Especially the high-profile cases and clients.”   
Samantha gave her a blank stare for a moment before bursting into laughter.   
“Oh, Hillary, you kill me sometimes.”   
“Excuse me?”   
“You do know that you’re repeating yourself, right? You said all of this at the very first meeting we ever had about this issue. ‘What about the high-profile cases?’” Samantha said mockingly. “Just give up, Hillary. We’re shuttering the Family Law department for good.”   
“But they’ll all be out of a job! The entire department!” Hillary argued.   
“Oh well,” Samantha replied, shrugging. “That’s life.” She sat down at her desk and gestured towards the door. “Get out. I have actual _work_ to do, Hillary.”   
Hillary angrily shook her head at Samantha. She was absolutely _furious_ with her. She stalked out of her office and slammed the door, clutching the folder tightly to her chest, trying to control her breathing, trying not to hyperventilate.   
_I have to read all of this information. I have to come up with a plan. I have to THINK..._ she thought to herself.   
“Hillary! There you are!”   
Hillary looked up and Betsy was standing there. Instinctively, Hillary held the folder even tighter against her chest.   
“Hillary, there you are,” Betsy repeated. “Come on, we have a little something for you in the break room. Come on and have a donut with us.”   
Hillary just stood there, not moving, and staring blankly at Betsy.   
“Hillary, come on!” Betsy said, laughing. “Jonah Humphrey’s left now, right?”   
“Um...yes,” Hillary managed, clearing her throat. “He has.”   
“Well come on then! We’re all waiting!”   
Hillary took a deep breath and smiled at Betsy. She couldn’t refuse; she had to appear as normal as possible. Even though she was freaking out on the inside, she managed to give Betsy a friendly smile.   
Betsy grabbed Hillary’s arm as Hillary followed her to the employee break room. When Hillary saw what was laid out for her on one of the tables, she felt a different kind of shock to her system; a pleasant one this time. There was a vanilla sheet cake decorated with pretty pink roses and writing that said _Welcome Back, Hillary!_ In matching light pink icing; there was a bakery box of freshly baked pastries and donuts along with an assortment of soft drinks, and there was also a gift bag from Bath  & Body Works sitting in between the cake and the pastries.   
“We never had a proper welcome back party for you after the accident,” Betsy explained, blushing slightly. “And we just wanted to say that we’re all _really_ glad that you’re okay after the car crash. It could have been so much worse if you think about it.” She addressed the rest of their colleagues who were gathered in the break room and raised her can of Coke in the air. “To those of you who didn’t know Hillary years ago, way back when...I just wanted to say that I think this accident has changed things for the better. I know she’s going to be an amazing boss, the best boss ever, and we should all get right behind her because she’s a fantastic person. Here’s to you, Hillary!”   
The whole room broke into applause.   
“To Hillary!” They all did “cheers” with their coffee cups and cans of soda.   
“Thanks...everyone,” Hillary managed, feeling overcome with emotion. “You’re all...the best.”   
_They’re all about to lose their jobs. And they have no idea_ Hillary thought in absolute horror. _And they’ve bought me a cake, and pastries, and a present._  
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dana was beginning to cut the cake.   
“Here, Hills, have a cup of coffee,” Betsy said, handing her a mug. “Sit down and relax for a minute. Enjoy. Have a piece of cake. Let me take that folder for you...”  
“No!” Hillary gasped, holding onto it tighter. “I mean...it’s confidential.”   
She nervously smiled at Betsy.   
“It’s all of our bonuses, isn’t it, Hill?” Michelle asked, with a cheeky grin. She playfully nudged Hillary. “I hope they’re nice and big this year! Mama needs a new pair of shoes.”   
Somehow Hillary managed to smile at Michelle.   
_This can’t possibly be happening_ Hillary thought, feeling absolutely mortified.   
***  
When Hillary was finally leaving the office at six p.m. that evening, she still felt like she was living in a bad dream. She only had the weekend to somehow put together a defense of the Family Law department.   
_And I barely know what the problem is, let alone a solution_ she bitterly thought to herself as she waited for the elevator. As she was in the elevator and pressing the button for the building’s ground floor, Samantha slipped onto the elevator before the doors could close.   
“Working from home this weekend?” She asked, raising her eyebrows as she glanced at Hillary’s overstuffed briefcase. On her way out, she had shoved as many files as possible that would fit into her briefcase and she had also grabbed a spare paper shopping bag that she had found in her office and filled _that_ with an abundance of files as well. Just to be on the safe side. She was willing to do whatever it took to save the department.   
“I have to save the department,” Hillary replied stiffly, staring straight ahead. “I’m going to work all weekend until I come up with a solution. There has to be _something_ that can be done.”   
“You have got to be kidding me,” Samantha rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Hillary, have you _even_ read the proposal? This is going to be _better_ for the both of us. They’re creating a new strategic team in the firm, we’re going to have way more power and scope than we do now.”  
“That’s not the point!” Hillary argued. “I don’t care about money or power. What about our innocent friends who are going to lose their jobs and won’t have _anything?_ ”   
“Stop being such a bleeding heart, Hillary,” Samantha scoffed in disgust. “They’ll find new jobs. You’ll write them amazing recommendation letters. And this is New York. There’s a law firm on every corner.” She suspiciously eyed Hillary up and down. “You know, Hillary? You weren’t bothered by this before.”  
“What do you mean?” Hillary asked, as she registered what Samantha had just said.   
“Well, before your car accident happened, you were all for getting rid of the Family Law department. Once you saw your new package and job offer. More power, more oversight, more money...what’s not to love?”  
“I don’t believe you,” Hillary defiantly said. “I would _never_ have sold out my friends that way. I don’t care about having money or power.”   
Samantha stared at Hillary pityingly as the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors opened.   
“Yes, you do, Hillary. You’re not the saint you think you are. Why should you be one anyways?”   
She gave Hillary a cold stare as she walked off the elevator.   
***   
Feeling shaken, Hillary arrived by taxi at the Madison Avenue location of Barney’s department store and traveled up the escalators to the personal shopping department in a daze. She had an appointment that evening with Emma, her personal shopper and stylist. According to the marriage manual, she met with Emma every three months. Emma would pick out a few “pieces” that would match that season’s “look.”   
“Hillary! Hi! _How are you?_ ” An overly made up young looking woman with long flowing blonde hair, a professional looking black long-sleeved shift dress, and a perfume that instantly made Hillary’s stomach churn, greeted her at the top of the escalator. “I was so devastated to hear about your accident!”   
Hillary politely smiled, “Well, I’m fine now, thanks. I’m completely recovered.”   
_What am I doing here?_ Hillary thought to herself. _I should have cancelled this appointment._  
“That’s great! I have some _fantastic_ new pieces for fall for you to see!” Emma enthusiastically said. She ushered Hillary into a private dressing area where Emma had already set up a rack of outfits for Hillary to try on. “There are some new shapes and styles that are in fashion this season, but I think you’ll be able to carry them off...”   
_What the hell is she talking about?_ Hillary thought to herself as she stared at a rack of black, grey, and cream colored pantsuits in front of her. _I have a closet full of suits just like these ones already_ Hillary thought in confusion.   
Emma was showing her suit jacket after jacket, talking about hem lengths, and sleeves, and pockets but Hillary wasn’t listening to a word of it. Her mind was buzzing and it was getting louder and louder...  
“Do you have anything... _different?_ ” Hillary suddenly interrupted her. “Do you have anything that’s... I don’t know...colorful? Or fun?”   
“Fun?” Emma asked, uncertainly. “This one is full of personality...” she hesitantly reached for another white blazer.   
Hillary ignored Emma as she walked away from the private dressing area, into the main women’s clothing department, and onto the main shop floor.   
“This!” She grabbed a light pink blazer and held it up to show Emma. “This is great. I could make a work outfit out of this with a matching pink blouse. I’m sure we can find something around here.”   
“Hillary,” Emma looked aghast. “Hillary...that’s not exactly _your_ style...”   
“Well, I would wear it,” Hillary responded with a shrug. Defiantly she grabbed a blouse with a colorful floral print on it. “Or _this_. I love this! I could wear this to work _or_ to a party.”   
“Hillary,” Emma touched her forehead and took several deep breaths. “I am your personal stylist. I know what works for you and what suits you. You have a very workable, easy, attractive, professional, simple style. And we’ve spent some time honing this look—”  
“Well, it’s boring,” Hillary said, shrugging, grabbing a black sleeveless shift dress out of Emma’s arms. She held it up. “I’m not this person. I’m really not.”  
“Yes, you are, Hillary,” Emma insisted.   
“I’m really not. I need fun. I need color. And patterns. While still looking professional of course.”   
“Hillary, you’ve been doing perfectly fine for several years existing in grey, black, and white.” Emma’s face looked pinched. “Hillary, at our very first meeting four years ago you _specifically_ told me that you needed a professional wardrobe in neutral colors...”  
“Well, that was then, okay?” Hillary snapped. She was trying to keep her frustration at bay but the entire day was beginning to bubble over and she felt like she was about to snap at any minute. “Maybe things have changed. Maybe _I’ve_ changed.”   
“This,” Emma held up a grey tweed pantsuit. “ _This_ is totally you, Hillary.”  
“It’s really not,” Hillary insisted.   
“It is.”   
“It’s not me! It’s not!” Hillary argued, feeling tears stinging behind her eyes. “I’m not this person! I can’t be this person! I won’t be!”   
She started pulling the bobby pins out of her hair, suddenly desperate to get rid of her tight bun. “I’m not the kind of person who wears boring black pantsuits every day. I’m not the kind of person who wears her hair in a bun every day. And...I’m not the kind of person who owns a twelve thousand dollar sofa. Or who goes on luxurious vacations to Italy. And I’m not the kind of person who...who sells out her friends...”   
Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was gasping with sobs by now. Her bun was half undone, her face was wet with tears, and her mascara was smudged underneath her eyes. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and Emma whipped the grey suit away in horror.   
“Be careful! Don’t get tears on the Dolce!” Emma scolded.   
“Here,” Hillary shoved the pantsuit back towards Emma. “Take it. I don’t want it.”   
And without another word, Hillary turned on her heel and walked away.  
***  
After cleaning herself up in the closest bathroom, and making herself look somewhat presentable again, she found the closest Starbucks and ordered a latte. She drank it while she took the rest of the pins out of her bun and shook her hair loose. Then she ordered another latte along with a chocolate brownie. After she had sufficiently relaxed and the sugar and caffeine had nicely settled in her system she could finally think clearly again.   
_There HAS to be a way I can save the department_ she thought. _I’ll work all weekend, I’ll come up with a solution, and I’ll save everybody’s jobs..._  
A ringing noise that was coming from her purse interrupted her thoughts. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and answered.   
“Hello?”  
“Hey, honey! How are you doing? Working late tonight?” Derek’s comforting tone came through the other end of the phone.   
Hillary smiled to herself and she felt oddly touched. There was somebody who cared about her, cared about her enough to call and check up on her.   
“Oh, I was just out shopping after work,” Hillary answered, chuckling slightly. “I’ll be on my way home soon.” She hesitated slightly before adding, “I missed you today, sweetheart.”   
It wasn’t _exactly_ true but Hillary thought it sounded like the right thing to say.   
“I missed you, too, babe,” Derek replied and Hillary could hear the warmth in his voice.  
This conversation was already making her feel a million times better than the lattes and the brownie had. She was about to respond to Derek when he spoke again.   
“Hey, honey?”  
“Yes?”  
“I have a surprise for you planned tonight, baby.”   
_Again with the surprises_ Hillary thought. She was _dying_ to find out what these surprises were and even though she wasn’t _quite_ prepared to find out what it was so soon, she figured she had to find out at some time or another and that night was as good a night as any.   
“Great!” Hillary enthusiastically responded. “I can’t wait!”   
“Awesome!” Derek replied excitedly. “I’ll have it all ready for you when you get home!”  
“Sounds...wonderful,” Hillary answered, laughing nervously.   
They said their goodbyes and Hillary threw out her garbage, grabbed her purse, left the Starbucks and hailed a cab.   
During her short taxi ride home, she started reading through some of the work files she had taken home with her and each one was worse than the last. The Family Law department was performing worse than ever; meanwhile every other department in the firm was thriving. She closed the file she was reading and stared out the taxi window at the passing city streets.   
_If only I could just put together a plan and come up with a solution...I KNOW there’s still something that can be done to save the department..._ she thought to herself.   
“Miss?”   
The taxi driver broke her out of her thoughts.   
“We’re here.”   
“Oh, right,” Hillary realized. “Thanks.” She was grabbing her wallet from her purse to pay the driver when her cell phone rang again.   
“Hello?”  
“The surprise is ready!” Derek excitedly said on the other end.   
“Great!” Hillary replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “I just got home. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.” 

She quickly paid the taxi driver and took the elevator up to the penthouse. When she got off the elevator and walked into the apartment the lights were dimmed. There was soft music playing, it was playing so quietly that Hillary could barely hear it but other than that the apartment was pretty quiet. Hillary noticed that red rose petals were scattered going up the staircase.   
“Hi!” Hillary awkwardly called out as she left her purse on the dining room table.   
“Hey, honey! I’m upstairs!”   
Hillary realized Derek’s voice seemed to be coming from the bedroom. Her bedroom. Or technically _their_ bedroom even though Derek had still been sleeping in the guest room.   
She checked her reflection in the mirror that was at the bottom of the stairs and ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair. Then she nervously followed the trail of rose petals up the stairs and down the hallway towards the master bedroom. The door to the master bedroom was slightly ajar. Hillary cautiously pushed the door open and poked her head into the room. The dim room was empty. Hillary noticed more rose petals scattered all over the floor and on the bed, and there were various lit candles placed around the room.   
_What on earth is all of this?_ Hillary thought to herself.   
“Derek?” Hillary nervously called out.   
“I’m in the bathroom!”   
Hillary warily walked across the bedroom to the adjoining bathroom and walked into the room. What greeted her nearly made her want to scream in shock and horror.   
_THIS IS THE SURPRISE?_ She thought in total shock.  
Derek was sitting in the bathtub that was filled with bubbles, completely and utterly naked.   
“Hi, sweetheart,” Derek greeted her with a knowing eyebrow raise and a twinkle in his eyes. “Come on and join me. Take off your clothes and get in.”   
The _last_ thing Hillary wanted to do in that moment was get naked in front of Derek and join him in the bathtub. She was paralyzed as she tried to figure out how to get out of this one. Every cell in her body was telling her that she definitely _did not_ want to take a bath with Derek, nor participate in what she was envisioning was Derek’s idea of a romantic night, judging by the rose petals and the candles.   
_But this is my husband..._ Hillary nervously thought. _Surely, we’ve taken baths together before, right? I can’t just turn around and run away from him. Oh God..._  
She tentatively took off her suit’s blazer and started slowly unbuttoning her blouse. She noticed Derek’s eyes light up when he saw her in her black lacy bra.   
_I really can’t do this_ Hillary thought. _This isn’t happening. Not tonight anyways. I need an excuse..._  
“Whoa!” Hillary said, touching her hand to her forehead. “I feel so dizzy all of a sudden.” The words and excuse coming out of nowhere. She started slowly backing away from the bathtub. “Oh my God, I think I’m having a flashback! Something’s coming back into my memory.”   
“A _flashback?_ ” Derek suddenly sat up further in the bathtub, alert, as some water splashed out of the bathtub and onto the bathroom floor from the sudden motion.   
“Yes! I had a sudden memory of...us on our honeymoon,” Hillary lied, coming up with it on the spot. “It was just brief; a brief image of me and you at the Eiffel Tower together but it was quite vivid. It took me by surprise is all...”   
“Go sit down in the other room, sweetie,” Derek said, frowning nervously. “Take it easy. Maybe some other memories will come back?”  
Hillary felt terrible for lying because he seemed so hopeful but she knew it was better than admitting the truth, which was that she was totally turned off by the idea of having sex with him.   
“Yes, I think I’ll just go and lie down in the bedroom, if you don’t mind,” Hillary replied, still keeping her hand on her forehead, using her hand to shield her view of a naked Derek. “I’m really sorry, Derek. After you went to all this trouble...it really is romantic...”  
“Sweetheart, its fine! Don’t worry about it. I’ll come join you—” Derek started rising from the tub.   
“ _No!_ ” Hillary cut him off, a bit more harshly than she intended to. “You just dry off and sort yourself out. I’m fine.”   
Before he could argue, Hillary hurried out of the bathroom, blew out the candles that were in the bedroom, and brushed the rose petals off of the bed before she flopped down on the bed and felt herself sink into the soft comforter and comfortable mattress. She just wanted the entire day she had just had to be over. She didn’t know whether it was Derek’s surprise or just the events of the entire day as a whole but all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and pretend that the outside world didn’t exist.   
_I can’t cope with this life anymore_ she thought to herself as she felt tears pricking at her eyelids. _I just can’t._

To Be Continued...


	20. Chapter 19

Hillary couldn’t even look at Derek anymore without picturing him naked in the bathtub. She was grateful that they had barely seen each other that weekend. He had been golfing and doing corporate entertaining for most of the weekend and Hillary had holed herself up in the home office, desperately trying to come up with a plan to save the Family Law department.  
That Sunday night, she had papers and files scattered all over her desk. She took off her glasses and rubbed her temples before taking a sip of the now lukewarm peppermint tea that she had been nursing. The department was much worse off than she thought. They had had a few triumphs in the past year that were due to Hillary’s efforts, and Hillary figured that’s what had impressed Jonah Humphrey so much about her performance as a Senior Partner but the few successes they had had were masking the truth about how bad off the department was.  
But all of that was going to change if Hillary was going to have anything to do with it. Over the weekend she had devised a plan to save the department and totally revamp it. It would take a bit of money and faith but Hillary was determined that it would all work out in the end. She was hopeful that her plan would work the way she imagined it would; that the firm and specifically the Family Law department would attract new clients as well as bring back old clients who had left over the past year.  
She gathered all of her papers and files together, finished her peppermint tea and decided to retire to bed. She couldn’t wait to present her plan to the managing partners in the morning.  
***  
_7:30 AM_  
Hillary squinted at the glowing numbers on her alarm clock. No that couldn’t be right? Hadn’t she set an alarm for 6 AM?  
_Shit!_ Hillary realized. She had been up until the wee hours of the morning the night before, putting the finishing touches on her plan that she must have overslept. The meeting with the managing partners was at 9 AM so she would have to hurry. She quickly showered and got ready for work, not even bothering to stop to make breakfast or coffee. She stuffed her files and her presentation materials into her briefcase, hurried out of the apartment, not even stopping to say goodbye to Derek, and hailed a cab.  
As she sat in the backseat of the cab, her hair up in a firm and tight bun, with her briefcase on her lap, her stomach was fluttering with nerves. The meeting was in less than an hour. All of the other managing partners were expecting to vote to disband the Family Law department. Hillary knew she was going to have to make as compelling a case as possible for why they shouldn’t. Or else...  
_No, I can’t think about the “or else”_ Hillary thought to herself. That was the worst case scenario. _I have to succeed....I just HAVE to..._  
She nervously checked her watch.  
8:45. The meeting was supposed to start in 15 minutes and Hillary was stuck in one of the worst traffic jams she had ever seen, even by New York City standards. She could still _just_ make it hopefully, they weren’t too far away from the office but the traffic didn’t seem to be moving at all.  
_Of course, the ONE time I oversleep..._ Hillary angrily thought to herself, shaking her head to herself.  
Quickly Hillary pulled her cell phone out of her purse, dialed Jonah Humphrey’s office and waited for his personal assistant, Amanda, to answer.  
“Hi, Amanda? It’s Hillary Rodham,” Hillary said, trying to sound as calm, cool, collected, and professional as possible. “I’m stuck in a bit of traffic but it’s really important that I speak at the partner’s meeting. Could you tell them to wait for me? I’m on my way and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”  
“Sure,” Amanda said cheerfully. “I’ll tell them. See you later.”  
“Thanks so much!”  
Hillary sighed in relief after hanging up. She could only hope that they actually _would_ wait for her before voting. There was no way she would make the start of the meeting but she could still make it for part of it and say her piece.  
The clock was creeping closer to 9 AM. Hillary pulled out her presentation folder and scanned the details one last time for good measure.  
Finally, the traffic jam passed and the taxi was eventually able to make its way to Hillary’s office building. It was already twenty past nine. Hillary just hoped that either the meeting had started late or that they had waited for her before voting.  
Hillary handed the driver a wad of cash, wretched open the door of the taxi, skittered up the steps of the office building and rode the elevator up to the 23rd floor as quickly as possible.  
“Hi!” She called out to Jennifer, the receptionist as she rushed out of the elevator and ran past the reception desk. “I’m here! Can you let the partner’s know?”  
“Hillary—” Jennifer tried calling out to her but Hillary ignored her. She didn’t have time to stop. She started running down the hallway to the boardroom...but was suddenly stopped in her tracks.  
Jonah Humphrey was standing in the hallway outside the boardroom, talking cheerfully to three other men in suits who Hillary recognized as fellow partners in the firm. One of the men was shrugging his suit jacket back on and Amanda, Jonah’s assistant was milling around, pouring coffee and serving refreshments. There was a lot of chatter and activity going on.  
“What’s...?” Hillary’s body was burning with adrenaline, she could barely speak. “What’s happening?”  
Everybody turned to Hillary with surprised looks on their faces.  
“Hi, Hillary. Now don’t panic,” Jonah said, giving Hillary the same disapproving frown he had that past Friday. “We’re just taking a break. We’ve finished the crucial part of the meeting and Bradley has to leave.” He nodded towards the man putting his jacket on.  
“ _Finished?_ ” Hillary realized in horror. “So does that mean—”  
“Yes,” Jonah cut her off. “We’ve voted already. We had the necessary majority without you. And we’ve voted in favor of reorganization.”  
“But...you can’t!” Hillary stuttered. She rushed towards her boss in a panic. “I’ve found a way to save the department! We just have to trim some costs while adding money to the budget in other areas. And I have some great ideas for how to bring our old clients back—”  
“Hillary, I’m sorry but we’ve already made our decision,” Jonah cut her off.  
“But it’s the _wrong_ decision!” Hillary desperately tried. “We can still save the Family Law department and get our clients _back_. I know we can! Please!” She decided to try to appeal directly to Bradley, the partner who was leaving. “Please don’t leave. Hear me out and listen to my presentation. Then you can vote again.”  
“Jonah,” Bradley turned away from Hillary, looking slightly embarrassed on her behalf. “Nice to see you again. We’ll do lunch soon but sadly right now I have to run to court.”  
“Of course. We’ll schedule a lunch for next week sometime,” Jonah said.  
They weren’t even acknowledging Hillary. Nobody wanted to hear her ideas, Hillary suddenly realized as she watched the partners walk back into the boardroom for the rest of the meeting.  
“Hillary,” Jonah was standing right in front of her. “I admire your fierce loyalty to your department, I really do. But you _cannot_ behave like this at partner’s meetings. It's extremely unprofessional.”  
Hillary could tell that he was furious at her and Hillary realized that her behavior was unprofessional but if she was going to go down...she was going to go down fighting for her friend’s and coworkers jobs.  
“Jonah, I’m sorry,” Hillary apologized, trying to put on a more professional manner.  
“Now, I know things have been difficult for you since your accident, Hillary,” Jonah started. “So what I suggest is you take a three month leave of absence for mental health reasons. Paid of course. And when you return we’ll find you a more...suitable role within the firm. How does that sound?”  
Hillary felt the blood drain from her face when she realized she was being demoted. She felt like she was about to pass out.  
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need a medical leave of—”  
“I think you do,” Jonah cut her off again, sighing. “Hillary, I am truly sorry about how things have gone since your return. If you had recovered your memory then things would be different of course. But Samantha has been filling me in on your situation. You’re just not up to a senior partner position at the moment.”  
Hillary could hear the finality and firmness in his voice.  
“Fine,” Hillary managed to say, sighing. She acquiesced. “I understand.”  
“Now you might want to go upstairs and speak to your department,” he paused thoughtfully before resuming. “Since you weren’t here I gave Samantha the task of breaking the regrettable news to them.”  
_Samantha?_ Hillary thought.  
With a final short nod, Jonah walked back into the boardroom. Hillary watched the boardroom door shut behind him, and then with a sudden burst of panic and adrenaline she ran to the staircase that led to the 24th floor. She couldn’t let Samantha tell them the bad news, she just couldn’t. She had to do it herself as their boss.  
While running up the short staircase, she quickly dialed Samantha’s direct line on her cell phone and got her answering machine.  
“Samantha!” Her voice was uncharacteristically quivering. “Don’t tell the department about the layoffs yet, okay? I want to do it myself. I repeat, please _do not_ tell them.”  
Once she reached the next floor, she ran straight from the staircase to her office, too afraid to catch anybody’s eye. She ran into her office and slammed the door shut. She had never been so nervous before in her life.  
_How am I supposed to break this news?_ She anxiously thought. _What am I supposed to say? How do you tell all your friends they’re losing their jobs?_  
She anxiously paced around her office, wringing her hands together. She was deep in thought when a sound suddenly brought her out of her thoughts. A voice from outside her office door.  
“Is she in there?”  
“Yeah, where’s Hillary?”  
“Is she seriously _hiding_ right now? That bitch.”  
“Is she still downstairs?”  
The voices were getting louder and louder outside her office door.  
“No, I saw her! She’s in there! Hillary, come out here!”  
Someone angrily and loudly knocked on her door, making her flinch. Somehow she forced herself to walk across the room and open the door. 

They all knew. Hillary could immediately tell.  
They were all standing there, every single member of the Family Law team, ranging from lawyers to legal assistants. They were all staring down Hillary. Betsy was front and center, glaring at Hillary.  
“It...It wasn’t my decision,” Hillary nervously stammered. “Please listen, everyone. You have to understand. It wasn’t me. I was going to...I wanted to...”  
She trailed off. At the end of the day she was their boss and it was down to her and her alone to save the department. And she had failed.  
“I’m so sorry,” Hillary apologized, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m so, so sorry...”  
There was silence as they all gave Hillary cold and hateful looks. Then suddenly they started silently turning around and walking away.  
With shaking legs, Hillary walked towards her desk and sunk down into her chair.  
_How did Samantha break it to everyone?_ Hillary wondered. _What did she say to them anyways?_  
And then suddenly Hillary spotted it on her computer screen where she had an alert on her screen that she had a new email waiting in her inbox. She read the heading: ATTN: COLLEAGUES –SOME UNFORTUNATE NEWS.  
Nervously she opened the email and as she read it, she clapped her hand over her mouth in shock and was sure she had made an audible gasp.  
_This went out? Under MY name?_ Hillary sadly thought. 

_Dear Family Law Colleagues,_  
_As you all know, the performance of the Family Law department has been terrible lately. Our client retention rates are appalling. It has been decided by the senior managing partners to disband the department and make it redundant._  
_You will all therefore be unemployed by late August. In the meantime, Hillary and I wish that you would work with improved efficiency and higher standards. Remember, we’ll be writing your recommendation letters and giving your references, so no slacking off these next few weeks._  
_Sincerely,_  
_Samantha and Hillary_

_I can’t believe this_ Hillary angrily thought. _I'm going to kill Samantha._  
***  
When she arrived home from work later that evening, Derek was sitting outside on the terrace, sipping a glass of scotch and flipping through a _GQ Magazine_. He looked up from his magazine when Hillary walked out onto the terrace. “Hi, babe. Good day at work?”  
“Actually...no,” Hillary sadly answered. “It was a terrible day actually. My entire department is being fired. They’re disbanding the department.” As Hillary said the words out loud, she couldn’t help tearing up again. “All my friends. They’re all losing their jobs. And they all hate me...and I really don’t blame them...”  
“Sweetheart.” Derek put down his magazine. “It’s business, Hills. These things happen all the time. It’s no big deal.”  
“I know,” Hillary replied, half-shrugging. “But these are my _friends_ , Derek. I’ve known Betsy since I was ten years old.”  
Derek furrowed his brow as if he was thinking hard, while he took a sip of his scotch. He eventually shrugged and turned his attention back to the magazine article he had been reading. “Well, like I said, these things happen sometimes.”  
“They don’t just happen,” Hillary argued, shaking her head fervently. “You try to stop them from happening. You fight.”  
“Sweetie,” Derek started lightly chuckling. “The firm’s not collapsing, right?”  
“Right.”  
“And you’ll still have a job?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, then,” Derek replied shrugging. “Relax. Sit down. I can get you a drink. How about a vodka martini?”  
_How can he respond like that?_ Hillary thought in disgust. _Isn’t he human? Doesn’t he have compassion?_  
“I don’t want a martini!” Hillary snapped. She felt like she was spinning out of control and that she was about to lose it. “I don’t want a fucking vodka martini!”  
“Well, okay. A glass of wine, then?” Derek seemed nonchalant and unbothered by Hillary’s little outburst.  
“Derek, you don’t understand!” Hillary nearly shouted. “You don’t see how _terrible_ this is?”  
She knew she was taking her rage towards Jonah Humphrey and the managing partners out on Derek and that it wasn’t Derek’s fault that they were disbanding her department but she didn’t care.  
“Hill—”  
“These people need their jobs, Derek!” Hillary yelled. “They’re not all...fucking millionaires!” She gestured around at their fancy balcony. “They have mortgages. Rent and bills to pay. Weddings to pay for. Babies on the way...” She bit her lip, remembering her friends and their current situations.  
“Hillary, you’re overreacting,” Derek said shortly, turning a page of his magazine.  
“Well you’re underreacting!” Hillary accused. “And I don’t understand. I just don’t _understand_ you at all, Derek.” Now she was trying to appeal to him directly. She wanted him to look up from his magazine, to explain it from his point of view, to discuss it with her. Like a normal couple would. But he didn’t look up from his magazine. He didn’t even flinch at Hillary’s comment.  
_It’s like he didn’t even hear me_ Hillary thought in frustration.  
She was so angry, she felt like throwing his glass of scotch and his stupid magazine off the balcony.  
“Fine,” Hillary eventually said. She let out a big sigh. “Let’s not talk about it. We’ll just pretend everything’s fine and that we agree, even though we don’t.”  
She turned on her heel and she was about to storm inside the apartment but she drew in a sharp intake of breath instead.  
Bill was hesitantly standing there, in front of the sliding glass door that led out to the terrace. He was wearing jeans, a light blue button up shirt and he had sunglasses on so Hillary couldn’t read his expression. She had no idea how much, if any, of her exchange with Derek he had heard.  
“Hi,” he said, walking closer to where Hillary and Derek were standing. “Lucinda let me in. I’m not...intruding am I?”  
“No!” Hillary quickly turned away from Bill so that he couldn’t see her face. “Of course not. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”  
_Of all the people to show up right now_ Hillary angrily thought. _To make my day even worse._  
Hillary defiantly decided that she wasn’t even going to look at him; she wasn’t going to _acknowledge_ his presence at all.  
“It’s alright, Bill. Hillary’s just a little bit upset,” Derek explained in a condescending tone. “Some people at her firm are losing their jobs.”  
“Not just a few people!” Hillary couldn’t help interjecting. “The entire Family Law department! And I didn’t do anything to try to save them. I’m supposed to be their boss and I couldn’t help them!” A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away before Bill or Derek could notice.  
“Bill.” Derek wasn’t even listening to her. “Let me get you a drink. A Diet Coke right? I’ve got the Washington, D.C. plans right here. There’s a lot we have to discuss...” he got up and walked into the apartment, closing the sliding glass door behind him. Hillary could hear him calling out for Lucinda.  
“Hillary.” Bill walked across the terrace to where Hillary was standing. His voice sounded urgent.  
Hillary rolled her eyes at him.  
_He’s trying it on again. I can’t believe him_ she thought.  
“Leave me alone!” Hillary snapped at him. “Didn’t you get the message before? I’m not interested, Bill! You’re a womanizing asshole. And even if I _was_ interested in starting something with you, now’s not a good time, okay? My whole department at work has just fallen apart. So unless you have a solution for that, you can just fuck off.”  
Bill was uncharacteristically silent. Hillary was expecting him to make a witty comeback but instead he took off his sunglasses and started rubbing his temples, as if he was confused about something.  
“I don’t understand, Hillary. What about the plan?”  
“Plan?” Hillary asked. Now she was the confused one. “What plan, Bill?”  
“Your big merger.”  
“What merger?”  
Bill’s eyes widened in shock. For a few seconds he just stared at Hillary with a stunned expression on his face, completely speechless. And Hillary knew it took _a lot_ to render that man speechless. “You’re not serious, Hillary. You mean you don’t _know?_ ”  
“Know about what?” Hillary snapped. She was tired of playing guessing games with Bill. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Bill.”  
“Holy shit,” Bill said, slowly exhaling. “Okay, Hillary. You have to listen to me. Please. Just hear me out. You had this enormous merger between Rose and Associates and another major New York firm all lined up and set to go in secret. You said it was going to change everything, it was going to bring in a lot of revenue, and brand new high-profile clients, it was going to completely transform the Family Law department...”  
He trailed off when he saw Derek walking back onto the terrace, carrying an ice cold can of Diet Coke for Bill.  
“So, it’s a lovely view, isn’t it, Hillary?” Bill covered, trying to sound nonchalant and casual.  
_An enormous merger between Rose and Associates and another major firm?_ Was all Hillary could think. She was _so_ confused.  
She could feel her heart beating fast as she stood there, watching as Derek gave Bill his drink and pulled out a chair for Bill at the outside patio table.  
_Ignore him_ a small voice in Hillary’s head was saying. _He’s making this up. He’s playing you. This is all a stupid game to Bill._  
_But... what if it’s not made up?_ Hillary also optimistically thought.  
“Derek, sweetheart, I’m really sorry about earlier,” Hillary apologized, but she realized she probably sounded a bit _too_ fake and nice. “It’s just been a really rough day. Could you possibly get me a glass of wine after all? It’ll probably help me relax.”  
She wasn’t even looking at Bill.  
“Of course, sweetie. Chardonnay right?”  
Hillary nodded and Derek disappeared inside the apartment again. Hillary turned around and looked at Bill.  
“Tell me what the hell you’re talking about,” Hillary uttered to Bill in a low tone. “Quickly. Before Derek comes back. And this better not be one of your little games.”  
Hillary felt slightly humiliated as she made eye contact with Bill. She didn’t know if she could trust anything Bill said or not. But she had to hear him out at least.  
_Because if there’s even a ONE percent chance that he’s telling the truth..._ Hillary realized.  
“This isn’t a game or a prank, Hillary,” Bill said, completely serious. “If I’d only _realized_ before that you didn’t know...” he shook his head in disbelief. “You’d been working on getting this merger in place for weeks. You had this big green folder that you used to carry around everywhere you went. You were so excited about it that you were having trouble sleeping—”  
“But what _was_ it?” Hillary demanded.  
“I don’t know the exact details, Hill,” Bill answered, sadly sighing. “You didn’t want to tell me. You were really superstitious about the whole thing. You were worried you might jinx it if you told me everything.”  
He smirked slightly as if he were sharing some kind of an inside joke with Hillary.  
“I know it was a merger with a super high profile law firm here in New York City. You were funneling some of your own personal money into an offshore bank account to help pay for it. And I know that it was going to be _huge_ ,” Bill finished.  
Hillary suddenly remembered the offshore account she had noticed on her bank statements and realized what the money must be for.  
“But why don’t I know about it then?” Hillary asked him. “Why doesn’t anyone at work know about it?”  
“You wanted to keep a low profile on it until the last possible moment,” Bill explained. “You said you didn’t trust everybody at the firm and that it was safer to keep it quiet.” He suddenly raised his voice back to its normal tone and volume. “Hey, Derek! How’s it going?”  
_No...No he can’t just stop there_ Hillary thought to herself. She needed to know more.  
“Here you go, sweetheart,” Derek said cheerfully, handing her a glass of white wine. Then he walked over to the patio table, sat down and gestured for Bill to sit beside him. “So, I spoke with our project manager again...”  
Hillary watched, standing perfectly still, as Bill started to spread out his blueprints across the patio table. Her mind was racing, filled with uncertainty.  
_It could all be total bullshit_ she thought. _But...maybe it’s not...What if it’s true? How else would he know about the offshore bank account unless I told him?_  
Her chest was constricting with slight pangs of hope and her heart was racing excitedly.  
_If there’s still a slight chance I can save the department somehow_ she thought. _Even the tiniest chance at all..._  
“Everything okay, Hillary?” Derek gave her a concerned look. Hillary realized she was standing absolutely still in the middle of the terrace, gripping onto her wine glass for dear life and staring off into space.  
“Fine.” Somehow, Hillary managed to compose herself after taking a few deep breaths. She walked over to the other side of the terrace and sat down in a steel patio chair, feeling the early evening sun beating down on her face. She was aware of the distant sounds of the New York City traffic down below. Across the terrace at the table, Derek and Bill were intensely studying Bill’s blueprints.  
“We might have to redesign the parking lot completely,” Bill was saying, as he was making some light sketches on the blueprints. “It’s just a minor setback.”  
“Okay.” Hillary heard Derek sighing. “If you think it can be done, Bill. I trust you.”  
Hillary took a big swig of her wine and marched back over to where Bill and Derek were sitting at the table.  
She couldn’t believe she was about to do this.  
“Hey, honey?” she said to Derek.  
“Yes?” Derek looked up expectantly at Hillary, giving her a big smile.  
“Can I have a few minutes alone with Bill? We have to talk. It’s about Chelsea,” Hillary lied.  
“Oh, sure. No problem,” Derek said uncertainly. “I’ll be right inside if you need me.”  
She waited for Derek to go back inside the apartment before she walked over to the other side of the terrace, gesturing for Bill to follow her. A few seconds later, both of them were staring straight forward, at the view of New York City, not looking the other one in the eye.  
“Can we meet up sometime tomorrow, Bill? To talk?” Hillary nervously asked him.  
“Sure.”

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is winding down, there's only a few more chapters left and I'm kind of sad about it to be honest lol. I keep putting off finishing up the epilogue. I don't want it to end haha. But there's lots of Billary in the next two chapters to look forward to as Bill helps Hillary track down the folder, and a lot of your remaining questions will probably be answered :) Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 20

The next afternoon Bill and Hillary had agreed to meet at a cute and cozy dessert café in Manhattan’s West Village. Hillary couldn’t remember ever having gone there before but as she walked inside and looked around at the well-worn and comfortable looking leather booths, the black marble espresso bar, and at the elaborate display case of various delicious looking cakes and pastries, she was having the weirdest feeling of déjà vu, like maybe she _had_ been there before sometime during the last five years. She brushed the feeling off figuring it was just wishful thinking.   
She noticed Bill sitting in a booth in the corner, sipping a latte and reading the newspaper while he waited for Hillary. He looked up at her and she felt her guard rising. Against her better judgement, here she was, meeting him in secret.   
_Just like he wanted all along_ she thought bitterly.   
But she was meeting him for business purposes and as long as she kept reminding herself of that fact, she figured she would be fine.   
“Hey.” She sat down in the booth across from him, carefully placing her briefcase in the empty space beside her. “We’re both busy people. So let’s talk about this big merger.”   
Bill was staring at her, giving her a perplexed stare.   
“Is there anything else about it that you can tell me?” Hillary asked, trying to ignore Bill’s expression. She picked up the menu that a waitress had dropped on the table seconds after Hillary had sat down, and pretended to peruse it. “Hmmm, a mocha latte sounds good.”   
“Hillary, what is _this_? Why are you acting this way? And what the hell happened at the party?”   
“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hillary pretended to be oblivious to Bill's questions as she continued studying the menu. “Or maybe I’ll have a cappuccino.”   
“Come on, Hill.” Bill pulled her menu down so he could see her face. “You can’t hide from me, Hillary. What’s going on?”   
Hillary could tell from Bill’s voice and facial expression that he thought this was funny. Defiantly, Hillary angrily slapped her menu down on the table.   
“If you _must_ know,” Hillary rolled her eyes. “I spoke to Whitney at the party and she told me about your...your predilections. I knew you were bullshitting me and taking advantage of my memory loss. And I don’t appreciate being bullshitted, thanks.”   
“Hillary—”  
“Don’t even start with me, Bill. Don’t try and pretend, okay? You’re not getting out of this one. I know you tried it on with her _and_ with Vanessa Klein,” Hillary said bitterly. “You’re just some smooth womanizer who tells married women what they want to hear. Wait...No. What you _think_ they want to hear.”   
Bill didn’t flinch. “Yes, I _did_ try it on with Whitney and Vanessa. I admit it. And I probably did go”—he hesitated—“a bit too far with it. Especially with Whitney. But you and I agreed that I should do it. It was our cover story.” Bill nonchalantly shrugged.   
_Well of course he would fucking say that_ Hillary angrily thought.   
Hillary glared at him, knowing that he could say anything he wanted and there was no way for her to know for sure whether he was telling the truth or not.   
“You have to understand, Hillary.” Bill leaned forward, closer to Hillary, and lowered his voice. “It was fake. We came up with a cover story that would hopefully fool everybody, so if we were ever seen together out in public, that could be the explanation. Whitney fell for it, hook, line, and sinker, just like we hoped she would.”   
“You _wanted_ to make your reputation as a womanizer worse?” Hillary retorted, rolling her eyes again.   
“Well of course not!” Bill defended, slightly raising his voice. “But we had a couple of...close calls. With Whitney, in particular. I think she was getting suspicious and putting the pieces together. She’s a lot smarter than she looks. She would have figured it out eventually.”   
“So you flirted with her and acted like a creepy stalker,” Hillary sarcastically retorted. “Nice, Bill. That’s real classy.”   
“You’re absolutely right, Hillary,” Bill admitted, intensely meeting Hillary’s eye. “This hasn’t all been pretty. We’re not in a perfect situation obviously and we’ve made plenty of mistakes over the past eight months.” He reached a hand towards Hillary. “But you have to trust me, Hill. Please? Let me explain everything.”  
“No!” Hillary exclaimed, yanking her hands away. “Just stop it! We’re not here to talk about...that...anyways so it’s beside the point. Let’s stick to the reason I asked you to meet me today.”   
A waitress approached the table and Hillary ordered a mocha latte. As soon as the waitress walked away again Hillary looked at Bill. “So, this merger. It doesn’t...exist. I’ve looked everywhere. I went into the office this morning and searched every little corner, every filing cabinet, and every single computer file. I’ve looked at home, especially in the home office...nothing. The only thing I’ve found is this.”  
She reached into her briefcase and pulled out the piece of paper that was covered in abbreviations and acronyms that Hillary had found in her home office a few days earlier. “There was an empty drawer in my desk at home. And this was in it.”   
When she passed it to Bill she was half hoping that he would recognize it and his eyes would light up or something but all he did was look at it and shrug. “That’s your handwriting, Hill.”  
“I know it’s my handwriting,” Hillary said, trying to remain calm. “But I don’t know what it means!” In frustration, she threw the paper down on the table. “Why didn’t I keep any notes about this supposed merger on my computer at work?”   
“There’s somebody at work. Samantha?”   
“Yes,” Hillary said, cautiously nodding. “What about her?”   
“You didn’t trust her. You thought she actually _wanted_ the department to be shut down. You thought she would try and sabotage things if she found out about your plan. So you were waiting to present the entire thing to the managing partners when it was already finalized.”   
The door to the café opened and Hillary slightly jumped in surprise, half expecting it to be Derek. She was formulating an excuse in her head for why she was having coffee with Bill but of course, it was only a group of giggling teenage girls.   
“So you don’t know anything else?” Hillary asked Bill, sounding more aggressive than she intended to. “You can’t help me?”  
“I didn’t say that,” Bill calmly responded. “I’ve been thinking back since last night and I did remember something. Your contact at the firm you wanted to merge with was Claire Nichols. Nelson? Something like that.”   
“Claire Nicholson?” The name suddenly came to Hillary. She remembered her assistant Elizabeth giving her tons of sticky notes and phone messages with that name on them.   
“Yes,” Bill said, nodding. “I think that’s it. Claire Nicholson.”   
“I think she tried calling me while I was in the hospital. Several times in fact.”   
“Well,” Bill shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you try calling her back?”   
“But I can’t!” Hillary gave a big defeated sigh. “I can’t just call and say ‘Hi, this is Hillary Rodham, do we have a merger in place, oh and by the way, what’s your firm?’ I don’t know enough about the merger! Where’s all the information about it?”   
“It’s there...somewhere,” Bill said, before pausing to take a sip of his latte. “You must have moved the folder. Maybe you hid it somewhere? Or put it in a safe place?”  
“But _where_ would I have put it?” Hillary asked in frustration.   
The waitress arrived and put Hillary’s mocha latte down in front of her. Bill ordered another latte for himself while Hillary thought.   
_Where would I have put a folder? Where would I have hidden it? What the hell was I thinking at the time?_  
“I just remembered something else,” Bill suddenly said after the waitress had walked away again. “You had had dinner with Chelsea at your mom’s apartment a few days before the accident occurred.”   
Really? When?” Hillary asked.   
“Two days before the accident. Maybe you took the folder with you and forgot it on your way out?”   
“Would I have taken it to my mom’s apartment? When we were having a family dinner?” Hillary asked skeptically.   
Bill shrugged, “You literally took that folder with you everywhere you went. You were paranoid about it ending up in the wrong hands. Call your mom and ask if she’s seen it. It’s worth a shot, right?”   
Hillary took a sip of her latte and weighed her options in her head as the waitress brought over Bill’s second latte.   
“Come on, Hillary. You can do it. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Bill encouraged, chuckling slightly. He nodded towards Hillary’s purse, knowing her cell phone was buried somewhere inside it.   
Giving him a wary look, Hillary found her phone in her purse, pulled it out, and dialed Dorothy’s number.   
“I'm not a magician, Hillary,” Bill chuckled again. “We had a relationship. We talked. You told me little things about your day.”   
“Hello?” Dorothy’s voice on the other end of the phone distracted Hillary from Bill.   
“Mom! Hi! It’s me, Hillary. Listen, mom. Did I recently bring some papers over to your apartment? Or maybe...a folder?”   
“That big thick dark green folder?”   
Hillary could feel the excitement and hope rising inside of her chest.   
_It’s true...it exists..._ Hillary thought in disbelief.   
“That’s right,” Hillary responded, trying to remain calm. “Do you have it by any chance? Is it still there?”   
“It’s on the coffee table in the living room, right where you left it, dear. I didn’t want to misplace it in case you came back and picked it up. You said it was important.”   
“Oh my God, you’re a _lifesaver_ , mom,” Hillary said, gratefully, clutching her cell phone tighter. “Keep holding on to it, please. Keep it safe and I’ll come and pick it up later today. Thanks, mom! Love you!”   
She ended the call and turned to Bill. “You were right! It’s there. Okay, I have to get there right away. I have to get to Queens—I need to get to a subway station or maybe a cab will be faster...”   
“Hillary, relax.” Bill finished his drink. “I’ll drive you. That is...if you want me too.”   
“What?”  
“I’m not busy today. It’s no trouble at all. It’ll have to be in your car, though. I don’t have one at the moment.”   
“You don’t have a car?” Hillary asked in disbelief.  
Bill shrugged, “I’m in between cars right now. I prefer walking or taking the subway anyways. But I do know how to drive a fancy BMW convertible with the top down.”   
He winked and smiled at Hillary, again as if he was sharing an inside joke with somebody.  
 _With me_ Hillary suddenly realized. _He’s sharing an inside joke with me. With...the girl I used to be. The girl he knew and loved for so long._  
Hillary opened her mouth to respond but she was too overwhelmed and confused. She didn't know what to say and her head was swimming with thoughts.   
“Okay,” she finally managed to say to Bill after several long moments. “Okay, you can drive me. Thank you.”   
***  
By the time they got to Hillary’s apartment building to pick up the car, they had their story totally worked out. Or at least Hillary did. If anybody asked what they were doing together, Hillary was going to say that Bill had called and offered to give her a driving lesson.   
But of course, nobody noticed that they were together or asked what they were doing.   
It was a beautiful, warm, summer day in July, so as Bill reversed the car out of its parking space, he opened the roof of the convertible. Then he reached into his pants pocket and handed Hillary a black hair elastic. “Here, you’ll need this, Hill. It’ll be windy.”   
Surprised, Hillary took the hair tie from Bill. “How come you had that in your pocket?”   
Bill shrugged, “I have them everywhere. You leave them all over the place. They’re all over my loft in Brooklyn. What do you do, _shed_ them?” he lightly teased Hillary.   
Hillary weakly smiled and silently put her hair up into a ponytail before it could get messed up by the wind. “My mom’s place is in Queens, I don’t know if you remember—”  
“I remember how to get to your mom’s,” Bill said, very straightforwardly as he stopped the car at a red light. “I’ve been there many times, Hill.”   
Hillary just nodded as the light turned green and Bill continued driving. She stared out the window at the passing skyscrapers and high-end boutique stores, barely noticing them.   
_He had my hair tie in his pocket. He was right about the green folder. He knew about the offshore account. Either he’s really, REALLY, done his research, or..._ Hillary thought to herself.   
“So...” Hillary began. “Hypothetically, if we were once lovers...”  
“Hypothetically of course,” Bill interjected, clearing his throat, not taking his eyes off the road.   
“What exactly happened after the divorce? How did we...”  
“Well, we decided to stay in touch and remain civil with each other because of Chelsea. We didn’t want to make things any more difficult than they had to be for her. And I had taken the job with Derek’s company so we would see each other around at company parties and events, and we would chat at those events. We were reconnecting, just as friends, and I started making up excuses with Derek for why I had to come over to the apartment to discuss work related things with him, but really I just wanted an excuse to see you. I started coming over to the penthouse more and more. I’d arrive early, while Derek was still tied up at the office. It was pretty innocent for the first few years. We’d talk, drink wine together on the terrace, watch television together...stuff like that.” He paused. “And then...Derek went away on a business trip one week. And you invited me over for dinner one night because you were lonely. And after that night...some things happened and...well, let’s just say that it wasn’t so innocent anymore.”   
Hillary nodded, starting to finally believe Bill. Everything was finally starting to become clearer to her, for the first time in weeks.   
“So what else?” she asked.   
“Well, we tried to see each other as often as we could,” Bill answered.   
“I figured _that_ ,” Hillary replied, chuckling slightly. “What was the affair like though? What did we say? What did we do? I don’t know, Bill...just tell me stuff.”   
Bill started laughing.   
“What?” Hillary asked, feeling like she was being left out of some private joke that she didn't understand. “What’s so funny?”  
“Oh, you kill me, Hills,” Bill said, still chuckling, his eyes crinkled in amusement. “That’s what you always say to me in bed. ‘Tell me stuff.’”  
“Well you know me, Bill. I like hearing stuff,” Hillary shrugged. “Anything. Any stuff.”  
“I know you do. Okay. Anything.” Bill drove in silence for a while and Hillary could see a smile tugging at his lips as he tried to think of something he could say. “Well, you finally got me into putting hot sauce on my scrambled eggs.”   
“You’re kidding me,” Hillary replied, her mouth opening slightly in shock.   
“Nope,” Bill smirked. “I could never understand why you did that, it seemed like an evil perversion to me. But now you have me addicted.”   
Hillary chuckled to herself. “What else?”   
“There was one weekend it poured rain for the entire weekend. Derek was in Las Vegas giving a speech at a sales conference and we stayed in bed together the entire weekend, just cuddling and watching movies.” Bill quickly glanced over at Hillary while he was stopped at another red light. “Should I keep going?”   
Everything he was saying was resonating with Hillary. Even thought she didn’t have clear memories of what Bill was talking about, her brain and body was stirring with faint recognition.   
_It feels like me. It feels like...my life_ Hillary thought as the realization suddenly dawned on her.   
Hillary nodded, “Keep going.”   
She definitely wanted to hear more.   
“Okay...well, we play Scrabble together. We’re pretty intense Scrabble players. You’re two games ahead of me right now...but I think you’re about to crack, Hill.”   
“I am not about to crack!” Hillary retorted, laughing, her competitive side coming out.   
“Oh, you so are.”  
“Never!” Hillary couldn’t help but grin.   
“And, well...your mom knows about us,” Bill admitted.   
“She does?” Hillary asked, shocked, her eyes wide in surprise.   
Bill nodded, “You broke down and told her a few months after we started the affair. You didn’t like keeping such a big secret from her. Don’t worry, she’s cool. She’d never tell anyone, especially Derek.”   
“Why didn’t she say anything after I woke up in the hospital? She knew how confused I was,” Hillary asked Bill in confusion.   
Bill shrugged, “You’ll have to ask her yourself. Maybe she didn’t want to overwhelm you anymore than you already were?”   
Hillary nodded, “Maybe." She nervously swallowed. "So my mom lied to me?”  
“She didn’t lie exactly...she just didn’t tell you the whole truth.” Bill was silent again for a moment as he continued driving. “We’ve had five whole entire nights together in the past eight months. Derek’s had every single other night with you.”   
Bill’s gaze was focused on the road ahead, his face intense. Hillary didn’t know how to respond to the last thing Bill had just said.   
“Should I keep going?” Bill finally asked her.   
Hillary nodded and cleared her throat. “Yes. Please keep going.”   
***  
As they drove through the busy city streets of Manhattan, and entered the more suburban area of Queens, Bill exhausted all the details about their relationship and affair from the past eight months that he could. Obviously Hillary couldn’t supply any details of her own in return so after a while, they were both sitting in silence together. Hillary was staring out the window but she wasn’t really paying attention to the scenery around her. She had seen it a million times before on the way to her mother’s apartment in the past.   
Hillary suddenly let out a huge sigh.   
“What?” Bill asked, looking over at her. “Is everything okay?”   
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I guess. I just keep wondering...how did I get to where I am? What made me want to marry Derek, climb up the career ladder, lose weight, get my teeth and lips done...What made me turn into this...whole _other_ person?” She gestured at herself.   
“This probably isn’t a conversation we should have in a moving car while I’m driving, Hill.”   
“What do you mean, Bill?”   
“We should probably have this conversation somewhere that’s quiet...and private.”  
“What did you do, Bill?” Hillary asked, glaring at him.   
With a screech of the brakes, Bill abruptly stopped the car in front of a grocery store and turned to face Hillary. “I’ll tell you everything when we get to your mom’s. I promise.”   
“Tell me now if it’s that important,” Hillary retorted, feeling slightly frazzled all of a sudden.   
“I’ll tell you at your mom’s,” Bill repeated as he started the car again.   
“Fine,” Hillary flopped back against the passenger seat. “You promise?”  
“Promise.”   
A few minutes later Bill pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex. “We’re here.”   
Hillary nodded as Bill parked the car; she hadn’t even noticed that they had arrived at her mom's apartment building.   
Bill opened his car door, “Come on.”   
***  
Bill and Hillary took the familiar elevator ride up to Dorothy’s apartment and Hillary lightly knocked on the door.   
“Wow, you really did rush over here. What _is_ all this about anyways?” Dorothy asked, when she answered the door, as Bill and Hillary walked inside.   
“Hi, mom,” Hillary greeted. “Bill’s here, too.”   
“Hi, Dorothy,” Bill greeted, giving her a hug.   
“Well,” Dorothy said, seeming flustered. “I just baked some banana bread but if I’d known Bill was coming too I would have whipped up some lunch for all of us.”   
“Its fine, mom. We don’t need lunch,” Hillary reassured her mother. “All we need is that folder. Is it still here?”   
“Of course,” Dorothy answered, gesturing towards the coffee table in the living room. “It’s right there.”   
Seeing the thick green folder sitting in plain sight on the coffee table, Hillary lunged for it and picked it up. She started eagerly flipping through it. And she couldn’t believe it. It was her handwriting. Lines and lines, pages and pages of it, clear as day.   
_Like a message from me to...me_ Hillary thought.   
Hillary quickly skimmed the first page trying to figure out as quickly as possible what she had been doing, what she had been planning, what this merger was all about. She could see she had written some sort of a proposal but a proposal for _what_ exactly? She flipped to the next page, her brow furrowed in curiosity, and then she spotted it. The name of the law firm she wanted to merge Rose and Associates with.   
_Oh. My. God_ Hillary thought, a big smile coming to her face as she instantly understood. She saw the whole picture and her heart was beating rapidly in excitement.   
_This is such a good idea_ she thought. _I mean really, this is SUCH a good idea. I can already see the potential. It could be huge; it’ll change everything if it works..._  
“So that’s the right folder?” Bill asked, but he already knew the answer judging from Hillary’s elated facial expression.   
“Yes!” Hillary answered, grinning from ear to ear. “This is brilliant! An absolutely brilliant idea!”   
“Well, it was all your idea, Hill,” Bill said.  
Hillary felt a glow of pride. “You know, this is what we always needed to do. This is what we should have done years ago. If this works out, they _can’t_ get rid of the Family Law department. They’d be crazy to.”   
Hillary’s mood instantly felt brighter and she couldn’t wait to tell everyone in her department about the plan.   
“Now,” Dorothy was approaching Bill and Hillary with a tray of coffee cups and a freshly baked loaf of banana bread. “I can at least offer you a cup of coffee and some of my banana bread.”   
“Dorothy, that’s so kind of you but we really just came to get the folder. I’m afraid we have to get going—” Bill tried.   
“I’d like a cup of coffee, mom,” Hillary said cheerfully. “You’re not getting out of our conversation that easily, Bill.”   
“Conversation?” Dorothy asked.   
“Bill was just helping me piece my memory back together,” Hillary explained. “It seems like there’s a lot of things about our relationship that no one filled me in on until now. Like, I don’t know... an _affair_ perhaps?”   
She was hoping her mom would get the hint.   
“Oh...you figured that out,” Dorothy realized.   
“With a lot of help from me, yes,” Bill answered for Hillary.   
“Why didn’t you tell me, mom?” Hillary asked, sighing.   
Dorothy sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know, dear. I should have told you, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to overwhelm you I guess.”   
“Well, I know now...” Hillary said quietly, trailing off.   
“I was hoping that maybe this accident was a blessing in disguise and that maybe you and Derek could have a second chance. It was foolish of me,” Dorothy admitted.   
“Why would you want me and Derek to have a second chance?” Hillary asked in confusion.   
Dorothy looked at Bill, “Did Bill tell you _anything_ at all about your divorce? Like maybe the reason _why_ you left Bill in the first place?”  
“We were just getting to that,” Hillary informed her mother, as she took a sip of her coffee, also looking at Bill curiously.   
“I’m just going to run to the corner store for...some milk,” Dorothy came up with an excuse. “I’ll give the two of you some privacy so you can talk.”   
“Thanks, mom,” Hillary said. “And thank you for holding onto the folder for this long.”   
“No problem, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a bit,” Dorothy replied, giving Hillary a kiss on the forehead. “ _Tell her_ ,” she mouthed to Bill while she was gathering up her purse and keys.   
Bill nodded. Dorothy soon left the apartment and Bill and Hillary were left alone.   
“So...” Hillary awkwardly said, waiting for Bill to start what was sure to be a difficult conversation.   
“Well, Hillary, as you know, I didn’t always treat you as well in our relationship and marriage as I should have,” Bill started.   
Hillary simply nodded as a rush of not so pleasant memories started to creep in.   
“But things had been going well in our marriage for the past several years, and I had stayed completely faithful to you for years,” Bill continued.   
Hillary nodded again, remembering some of the happier years between them, in her most recent memories from before the accident. “But then...”   
Bill sadly sighed, and slightly teared up. “We suddenly hit a rough patch in our marriage. We were both stressed at work, you were trying desperately to make partner and my firm was on the verge of collapsing. We were thinking of trying to have a second child somehow but that was causing pressure in the marriage too. We weren’t really communicating and then...there was this young women who started working at my firm, she was in her early twenties and...”  
Hillary could fill in the rest herself. “So you _cheated_? Again?” It felt like something had just stung her.   
Bill nodded, “I had an on-again, off-again, affair with this woman for a few months and you found out. And it was the last straw. You decided to leave me and filed for a legal separation, which led to you eventually filing for divorce obviously.”   
All Hillary could do was nod as tears sprung to her eyes.   
“And years later, when we were still just friends, before _our_ affair started, you told me everything. How that final affair of mine and our divorce changed your life. How a few days after you filed for the divorce, you booked a cosmetic dentistry appointment, got a personal trainer and went on some crazy crash diet. My cheating on you with a younger woman made you want to change everything about yourself, completely,” Bill explained tearfully, the regret evident in his voice.   
He tentatively reached out to tuck a piece of Hillary’s hair behind her ear and she let him.   
“I’m _so so_ sorry that I made you feel like less than you are, Hill,” Bill apologized. “That was never my intention. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was stressed and...”   
Hillary nodded, “I know, Bill. It’s okay.” She wasn’t ready to completely forgive him for what he had done to her but she could understand why he did it. It had been a familiar pattern of behavior for him in their marriage over the years.   
“But I started going to therapy after the divorce, working on my issues. If you do end up leaving Derek, and we get back together, I promise to _never_ ever cheat on you again. I’ll only be one hundred percent faithful to you, Hill. Always.”   
Hillary nodded. “That’s good that you got help. And that’s why I let you back into my life as a friend and...Eventually a lover?”   
“Exactly,” Bill responded, nodded. “And I really am sorry that I made you feel like you had to change your appearance so drastically. Not that you aren’t absolutely beautiful now, Hill, you’re always beautiful no matter what. But you were just as beautiful five years ago when you were married to me, as you are now. You didn’t need to get veneers or to lose weight. You were perfect just the way you were. I’m sorry I didn’t show that more. You've always been beautiful and perfect, no matter what.”   
Hillary nodded again. It was a lot to take in and process. With tears silently falling down her face, she stood up and walked over to the window. Staring out of it, she tried to picture the scene, she tried to put herself back in 1995 Hillary’s shoes. She had been struggling to make partner at her firm, she had been trying to have a second child with Bill...and then she finds out that Bill had cheated on her with some twentysomething young girl at work.   
_Okay_ Hillary thought to herself, taking a deep breath and letting out a heavy sigh. _Okay, things are finally starting to make some sense_ she realized. 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some angst and sadness at the end of the chapter but I hope the Billary time lived up to your expectations and you enjoyed this chapter! There's still more revelations about her life and her affair with Bill in store for Hillary in the next chapter so stayed tuned. Thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 21

After they had finished talking and plenty of tears had been shed between the two of them, they left Dorothy’s and Bill started driving Hillary back to her apartment. They had been sitting in silence for most of the ride except for the occasional sniffle from Hillary. Hillary was tightly clutching the green folder against her chest and staring out the window. Bill would occasionally glance over at her but he didn’t speak.   
Hillary was going around and around in her head with everything she had just learned about Bill and their divorce, trying to digest everything she had just found out.   
“At least I finally _understand_ myself a bit more,” Hillary said out of the blue, breaking the silence.   
Bill looked over at her.   
“Did we ever talk about the divorce or your cheating?” Hillary asked Bill. “After the fact I mean. When we were friend’s again.”   
“Maybe once or twice,” Bill answered, grinning wryly.   
“Oh my God, I probably bored you to death,” Hillary realized.   
“Don’t be stupid, Hill. It was good for me. Talking about it helped me realize my mistakes, and it made me a better man. The man I should have been for you. The man I _will_ be for you from now on.” He took his hand off the wheel while they were stopped at a red light and tightly squeezed Hillary’s. “Like I said, one day, really early on when we had become friends again, you just poured everything out. The whole story. How my cheating and our divorce completely changed your life. How you booked a cosmetic dentistry appointment, dyed your hair, got a personal trainer and went on a crazy crash diet. You basically decided to change everything about yourself. But things became even more extreme when you met Derek. You were finally rocketing up the career ladder and about to make partner at your firm, and Derek seemed like the answer to the rest of your problems. He was dependable, solid, rich, ambitious, and stable. A million miles away from...” Bill trailed off.   
“You,” Hillary quietly interjected.   
“Well, I’m no psychologist, Hill. But I would hazard a guess,” Bill sadly responded. “And well, Derek expected you to look and act a certain way.”   
There was silence again as Hillary stared out the car window and watched some children playing in a park.   
“You know, when I woke up in the hospital, I thought I’d landed a dream life,” Hillary admitted. “I thought I was a princess in a fairytale. No, I thought my life must be _better_ than a fairytale. Even though I was desperately missing you, I figured I must be the happiest woman in the world. I had everything I could ever want. A fabulous apartment, an amazing wardrobe...” She trailed off when she saw Bill shaking his head.   
“You were under a lot of pressure and strain, Hillary. You went too far, too soon. Especially at work. You didn’t know how to handle it and you made mistakes.” Bill hesitated and sighed. “You alienated your best friends. Especially Betsy. You found that the hardest of all to deal with. Losing Betsy’s friendship has been really traumatic and upsetting for you.”  
“But I don’t _understand_ ,” Hillary said, feeling helpless. “I don’t understand why I became such a bitch!”   
“You didn’t mean to, Hillary. Give yourself a break. First of all, you could never be a bitch. And second, you weren’t trying to be a bitch on purpose. You made partner and all your dreams came true, but suddenly you were thrust into this boss position. You had a big department to run, you were trying to impress the managing partners, and you didn’t want to be accused of favoritism having your best friends working under you. And well...you struggled. You made some mistakes and did some things the wrong way. And then you felt trapped. You had built up this tough persona at work. It was part of your success but it wasn’t _you_.”   
“They have a nickname for me. The Witch,” Hillary said, cringing.   
“The Witch,” Bill repeated, nodding. “Maybe they were on to something. You are pretty witchy when it comes to winning cases.”   
“Am not!” Hillary insisted, opening her mouth in shock.   
“In a good way,” Bill reassured Hillary, grinning.   
_How can you be like a witch in a good way?_ Hillary thought, but she managed to crack a smile.   
They drove on in silence again for a while, getting closer to Manhattan. Bill turned on the radio and a classic rock song was playing softly in the background. Suddenly as they drove along, Hillary suddenly felt like they had been transported to another world together. Another life. It felt like their old life together again.   
“You once said to me, if you could go back in time and redo everything from our divorce onwards differently, you would,” Bill quietly said. “Everything. Yourself...your job...us...Derek. I guess everything looks different when the gloss wears off.”   
Hillary felt her chest constrict at the mention of Derek. Bill was talking like everything was in the past—but they were in the now and unfortunately Hillary was still married to Derek.   
_Nor do I like what he’s implying_ Hillary thought.   
“I’m not some shallow, self-absorbed, gold-digger, Bill. Okay?” Hillary insisted. “I must have truly loved Derek at first. I wouldn’t marry some guy just because he’s rich and good-looking. At least I don’t think I would. But I honestly don’t know anymore.” She shrugged helplessly.   
“At first you thought Derek was the full package and you fell in love with him,” Bill agreed, nodding. “I don’t blame you. He’s charming, he ticks off all the boxes...In fact, he’s like a robot. A Perfect Husband robot. Put him on ‘husband’ mode and off he goes.”   
“Stop it,” Hillary tried, but she put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.   
“He’s state-of-the-art. He has a range of settings; he’s touch sensitive...”   
“Bill, _stop_ it!” Hillary was desperately trying not to laugh but a few chuckles escaped anyways. She turned the radio up in order to try to ignore Bill. A few minutes later, she worked out what she wanted to say and turned the radio back down again.   
“Okay, Bill. Look. Maybe we did have an affair. In the past. And I will always love you, Bill. You know that. But that doesn’t mean...What if I want to make my marriage _work_ this time around? Maybe my mom was right. Maybe this can be mine and Derek’s second chance?”   
“You can’t make it work. No matter how hard you try,” Bill retorted, not missing a beat. “Derek doesn’t love you. I mean, he loves you on some level but he doesn’t _really_ love you. He loves the _idea_ of having a woman like you.”   
_Why does he have to be such a fucking know-it-all?_ Hillary thought in frustration.   
“Yes, he does. He does love me,” Hillary insisted, crossing her arms. “He told me. It was actually a really romantic moment, if you must know.”   
“Oh, yeah?” Bill asked, not seeming fazed at all. “What did he say exactly?”   
“He said he fell in love with my beautiful lips, and my legs, and the way I swing my briefcase when I walk.” Hillary couldn’t help slightly blushing at the memory. She had always remembered Derek saying that to her. She had probably memorized it on the spot.   
“That’s bullshit,” Bill said, not even turning away from the road.   
“It’s not bullshit!” Hillary retorted, angrily. “It’s sweet! And romantic!”   
“Oh really? So would he still love you if you _didn’t_ swing your briefcase while you walked?”   
Hillary was stunned. “I...I don’t know. That’s not the point, Bill.”   
“How can it not be the point? It’s _exactly_ the point, Hillary. Would he still love you if your legs weren’t gorgeous and toned?”   
“I don’t know!” Hillary replied, annoyed. “Shut up! It was a wonderful, beautiful moment between us.”   
“Well, it was all bullshit, Hillary.”   
“Fine,” Hillary gave up. “What do _you_ love about me then?”   
“You really don’t know after nearly thirty years?”   
“Just tell me, Bill.”   
“I don’t know. Everything about you. I’m not going to turn it into some arbitrary _list_ ,” Bill replied, somewhat disdainfully.   
There was a long pause and moment of silence. Hillary was staring straight ahead, her arms still folded tightly across her chest, clutching the folder. Bill was focused on the road ahead of him. They were back in Manhattan now and the traffic was starting to get congested.   
“Okay,” Bill finally said as they got stuck in a traffic jam. “I love how smart and driven you are, Hillary. I love the way you always want to help people in need. I love the way you passionately care about children. You know you could do so much more with your life, Hill. You could run for public office. Heck, maybe you could run for President one day.”   
“President? _Maybe_ City Councillor,” Hillary retorted, chuckling slightly.   
“How about Senator?” Bill joked.   
“Fine, Senator.” Hillary was trying to stop laughing, she was trying to keep her mouth straight but a few of her famous big laughs escaped anyway.   
As the traffic slowly crawled along, Hillary’s cell phone started ringing in her purse. She answered it.   
“Hello?...Oh, hi, honey...Oh, that’s great, I’m glad to hear...uh-huh....uh-huh...Okay, honey....Have a nice trip...Okay...Love you, too. Bye, hun.”   
“That was Derek,” she said, after hanging up. “His train arrived safely in Philadelphia. He’s checking out some possible new sites for properties for the next few days.”   
“Yeah, I know,” Bill said, nodding.   
“Oh, right. Of course,” Hillary realized.  
They were almost back to Hillary’s apartment by now. The weather had taken a sudden turn; the clouds had become darker and a rain drop suddenly hit Hillary on the nose. Bill put the roof of the BMW convertible back up.   
“So what are you planning now?” Bill asked her.   
“Now?”   
Bill shrugged, “You know, the rest of the day. If Derek’s out of town and all.”   
Deep inside of her, Hillary felt a stirring sensation. She didn’t want to admit to herself that it was there, but _something_ was definitely there.   
“Oh, I don’t know,” Hillary said, trying her best to sound casual and nonchalant. “I didn’t have any plans. I was just going to go home, give Lucinda the night off, order some takeout for dinner, read through this folder...” She paused. “Why?”   
Bill shrugged again, “Oh, nothing.” Bill paused as well. “It’s just...some of your things are at my loft in Brooklyn. I thought you might want to come over and pick them up?”   
“Oh, sure. Okay,” Hillary shrugged casually.  
“Okay.” Bill nodded, and turned the car around, heading in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge.  
***  
The first thing that greeted Bill and Hillary when they walked into Bill’s spacious Brooklyn loft was an extremely hyper and excited chocolate colored Labrador Retriever who was excitedly jumping all over Bill and Hillary; especially Hillary. Hillary realized that the dog must be familiar with her judging by how excited he seemed to see her.   
“Okay, Buddy, I know you’re excited to see Hillary again, but that’s enough,” Bill said, trying to calm the dog down. “He really missed you,” he added to Hillary.   
“I see that,” Hillary said, chuckling. “He’s sweet,” was all she could say about the dog since she had no memory of him.   
While Bill went into the kitchen to feed Buddy, Hillary took a look around his loft. It was the most beautiful apartment she had ever seen. It had beautiful, large, high arched windows; the rain had cleared up and the early evening sunlight was streaming through them, bathing the apartment in an ethereal glow. Bill had bought the loft beside his as well and combined the two so the loft was even bigger and more spacious than you would imagine.   
“This is... _amazing_ , Bill,” Hillary commented.   
She was standing in his workspace, taking it all in. The ceilings were high, there were bookcases everywhere crammed with books in typical Bill fashion and there was also a huge desk covered in papers and blueprints.   
Bill came back into the main room, which was his workspace, and picked up a few old coffee cups that were scattered around before carrying them into the kitchen and leaving them in the sink.   
A minute later, Hillary looked up to see Bill standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at her; a smile on his face. He ran his hands through his hair. “Your stuff’s just through here, in the living room. Follow me.”   
Hillary followed Bill past the kitchen, and into a cozy living room. Hillary figured that it must have been a bedroom at one point, that Bill had converted into a den/living room, leaving the loft’s actual living room area free to be his workspace. Hillary noticed that it was furnished with the comfortable and well-worn old blue sofa and loveseat from their old brownstone. She recognized the coffee table from their brownstone as well. There was a television set in the corner, propped up on a cabinet. On one of the walls was yet another bookcase also crammed to the max with books, magazines, VHS tapes of movies and...  
“Wait, is that my mug?” Hillary asked Bill, suddenly noticing a light pink coffee mug that Chelsea had once given her as a Christmas present; sitting on the coffee table like it belonged there. It didn’t look out of place at all.   
“Yep,” Bill answered, nodding. “I tried to tell you. You came over here all the time. You left things here. We had a relationship.”   
He handed the coffee mug to her.   
“And my Yale sweater!” Hillary noticed an old Yale sweatshirt of hers draped over the couch. She looked around the room in disbelief as more things she recognized as being her stuff came into view. A light blue colored blanket that her mom had knitted for her once that she always used to like to curl up with while watching TV. Old framed photographs of her and Bill during their time at Yale while they were in law school and graduate school respectively. Another framed picture of them on their wedding day.   
“Wait...is that our old _toaster_?” Hillary asked Bill, laughing.   
“You used to come here and eat toast all the time,” Bill replied, chuckling slightly. “You’d eat it like you were starving. Same with pasta. And sometimes we would make homemade pizza together.”   
Hillary was finally seeing the side of her that was familiar to her; the side of her that she thought had disappeared forever when she woke up in the hospital and discovered her new life.   
_I’m...home_ Hillary realized. For the first time since waking up in the hospital, she truly felt like her old self again.   
“All this time...my stuff was here,” Hillary muttered in amazement under her breath.   
Suddenly she had a memory of something that Derek had once said to her when she’d asked him about Bill. _You’d trust Bill with your life._ And that’s what she had done. She had trusted Bill with her life. And with her secrets.   
“Does this bring back any memories?” Bill asked. Hillary could tell he was trying to act and sound casual but she could hear the sense of hope in his voice.   
“No,” Hillary shook her head and sighed. “Just the stuff from my life that I already remember from before...” She trailed off when she noticed one of the framed photographs. It was a more recent one that she didn’t recognize. She moved closer and picked up the frame to look at it—feeling a shock run through her body. It was a photo of her and Bill, sitting in the sand on a beach together. His arms were wrapped around Hillary’s waist, and she was wearing a pair of old jeans and worn out sneakers. Her head was tossed back in laughter with her long blonde hair flowing down her back and she looked like the happiest girl on earth as she brightly smiled up at Bill in the photograph.   
“It was real. It was really real,” Hillary said out loud to Bill, in shock as everything about their relationship and affair started to finally sink in.   
_All this time...he had proof_ Hillary thought.   
“You could have just shown me this, Bill,” Hillary said, holding up the picture frame. “This photo. The day you helped me park the car, the first time we saw each other after the accident. You could have brought this photo along with you and shown me.”   
“Would you have believed me though, Hillary?” Bill asked, weakly smiling. “Would you have _wanted_ to believe me?”   
Hillary knew Bill was right. _I probably would have rationalized it, come up with some kind of explanation...desperate to cling onto my “perfect” husband and my “dream life”_ Hillary thought to herself, still in disbelief.   
Ignoring Bill, Hillary walked over to the coffee table where there was a pile of newspapers and old books that Hillary recognized as once belonging to her. She picked up a crossword puzzle that was sitting on the top of the pile of newspapers.   
She noticed Bill had a strange expression on his face.   
“What?” Hillary asked him in confusion.   
“It’s fine. It’s just...” Bill paused, and half-smiled, almost to himself. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”   
“What is it, Bill?” Hillary asked, frowning. “Something from our affair? You have to tell me. Please.”   
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Bill said, shrugging. “It’s just...it’s stupid really. We had this sort of...tradition. The first time we had sex again after the divorce, we did a crossword puzzle in bed together after having sex. I took it home and kept it and it became a private joke of sorts. Then it became a tradition. Every time we had sex together, we would do a crossword puzzle together afterwards. As kind of a...memento I guess.”   
Hillary frowned, her brow furrowing. That was ringing a tiny bell somewhere inside her.   
“Let me get you a drink,” Bill offered. “Let’s go outside. I want to show you the view.”   
Bill led Hillary down the hallway, into his bedroom, and out onto a wide, concrete balcony. He disappeared back into the apartment for a few moments, coming back out with a bottle of Chardonnay and two wine glasses. He started pouring each of them a glass.   
“So where are these crossword puzzles? Did you keep them?” Hillary asked.   
“It doesn’t matter,” Bill answered shrugging, as he gave Hillary her glass of wine.   
“Well, did you throw them away?” Hillary asked.   
“No, I didn’t throw them away,” Bill answered defensively.   
“Well, where are they then?” Hillary asked, as if she was challenging Bill. “We must have had sex more than a few times if everything you’re saying is true. So there should be a few crossword puzzles, right?”   
Bill took a sip of his wine and without saying anything, disappeared inside the apartment. He returned a few minutes later carrying a stack of newspapers. He silently handed it to Hillary. She started flipping through it in awe. There was at least a few months worth of crosswords puzzles there, the timeline for their affair that Bill had given her matched up.   
“So, how long ago since...I mean...” Hillary looked at the date printed in the upper right corner of the newspaper for the most recent one that was at the very top of the pile. “Was that the last time we...”   
Bill nodded, “That’s the last time we had sex. Seven weeks ago. A week before the accident.”   
“So that’s the last time I saw you before...” Hillary realized, biting her lip.   
There was silence. Bill nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. “That’s the last time we were together before the accident. I left for my business trip the next day and the accident happened a week later.”   
Hillary nodded, taking a big gulp of her wine, feeling completely overwhelmed. There was an entire story here that had just unfolded in front of her; an entire relationship.   
_I was actually going to leave Derek and get back together with Bill_ Hillary realized.   
“So...what about the first time?” Hillary asked. “How did it all start?”  
“Well, like I said, it was that week that Derek was away on a business trip. You had invited me over for dinner because you wanted some company and we were talking after we had finished eating. We were just out on the terrace, drinking wine, chatting, kind of like what we're doing right now,” Bill gestured around the balcony. “It was pretty innocent and casual. And then, towards the end of the evening, we both fell silent. Whatever conversation we had been having stopped and...We both just instantly knew.”   
His eyes locked with Hillary’s and she felt her stomach nervously flip-flop. He started walking across the balcony, over to Hillary. “We both suddenly knew that we were always meant to be together. It's always been you and me, darling,” Bill quietly said.   
Hillary was transfixed. Gently, Bill removed her wineglass from her hand and set it gently down on the small Bistro table he had set up on the balcony. He carefully took hold of both of Hillary’s hands.   
“Hillary...” He brought Hillary’s hands up to his mouth, closed his eyes, and gently started kissing them. “I knew it...I knew you’d come back. I knew you’d come back to me.”   
“Stop it!” Hillary pulled her hands away in alarm, her heart pounding. “You don’t...you don’t know anything, Bill!”   
“What’s wrong?” Bill asked in alarm, looking shocked, as if Hillary had just slapped him.  
Hillary didn’t even know what was wrong with her. She wanted him so badly; her entire body was telling her to go for it and just kiss him already. But...she couldn’t.   
“I don’t know...I’m freaked out!” Hillary exclaimed.   
“By what?” Bill asked, totally confused.   
“By everything!” Hillary gestured at the pile of crossword puzzles on the patio table. "Everything is too much. You’re presenting me with a...a fully fledged relationship. But for me...it’s only the beginning.” She took a gulp of her wine, trying to calm herself down. “I’m too many steps behind you, Bill. We’re...unbalanced.”  
“We can balance it!” Bill insisted. “We can work it out. I promise. I’ll go back to the beginning with you.”   
“We can’t go back to the beginning!” Hillary exclaimed, frantically running her fingers through her hair. “Bill, you’re my ex-husband and I’ll always love you on some level, of course. But I don’t love you like _that_. First of all, you cheated on me after promising me that you would never cheat again. Don’t think I didn’t forget about that. Second of all, how could I love you? I don’t remember anything at all about this second relationship that we had.”   
“Hilly, I’m not expecting you to _love_ me again right out of the gate—”  
“Yes you do! You do! I know you do, Bill. I know you. You expect me to be _her_. The girl I used to be.”  
“But you _are_ her, Hillary.” Bill suddenly sounded angry. “Don’t give me this bullshit, Hill. You’re the girl I love. You’re still the same girl I met in the library at Yale, all those years ago. You’ve always been her, Hill. _Please_ believe me, Hillary.”   
Suddenly, out of nowhere tears were streaming down Hillary’s face. Feeling mortified, she turned away from Bill and tried to regain her composure.   
“I want to be her!” Hillary cried. “I want to be the carefree girl laughing on the beach! But clearly I’m not her anymore!”   
“Yes you are!” Bill insisted but Hillary ignored him.   
When she had managed to calm down and regain her composure, Bill was standing in the same place he was before, a heartbreaking expression on his face that made Hillary’s stomach drop and her heart tighten.   
“Look, Bill,” Hillary swallowed. “I see the crossword puzzles. I look at the photos. And I see all of my belongings that are here. And I can see that it happened. I see that a relationship happened. But from my perspective, it looks like a beautiful romance between two people I don’t know. It’s like it happened to a couple in a movie I watched. Or something like that.”  
“It’s you,” Bill said quietly. “It’s me. You know both of us. We were married for twenty years, Hillary.”   
“I know that in my head,” Hillary calmly explained. “But I don’t _feel_ it in my heart. I don’t _know_ it.” She could feel tears prickling at her eyelids again. She clenched her fists at her sides. “Things would be different if I could just remember _one thing_. If there was just _one memory_ , some kind of a thread...” She trailed off.   
“So what are you saying?” Bill sadly asked her.   
“I’m saying...I don’t know! I don’t know, Bill. I need time. I need...” she trailed off helplessly.   
It was starting to rain again and drops of rain were starting to fall on the balcony.   
“I need...” Hillary tried again.   
“A ride home?” Bill cut in. He lifted his eyes to meet Hillary’s and the anger in them was gone. He only met Hillary’s gaze with softness and a bittersweet understanding.   
“Yes,” Hillary nodded. She swiped at the tears that had started falling down her cheeks again, and quickly pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Please.”  
* * *   
On the ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan, to Hillary’s penthouse, Bill and Hillary didn’t speak. Hillary clutched the green folder to her chest as Bill pulled up in front of Hillary’s apartment building. For a moment neither of them spoke or moved. It was pouring rain by now. The rain was crashing down against the roof of the car and there was a clap of thunder off in the distance.   
“You’ll have to run straight in,” Bill said.   
Hillary nodded. “What about you? How will you get back to Brooklyn?”   
“I’ll be fine. I’ll take a taxi,” Bill answered, avoiding Hillary’s eye. “I’ll park the car and leave the keys with the doorman.”  
Hillary nodded.   
“Good luck with that,” Bill nodded at Hillary’s folder. “I really mean it, Hill.”   
“Thanks,” Hillary said, biting her lip. “I really have no idea how I’m going to get to Jonah Humphrey to discuss it though. I’ve been demoted and I’ve lost all credibility. He won’t be interested in this deal.”   
“You can do it,” Bill encouraged. “You’ll figure something out. You always do.”   
“If I can get an appointment to speak to Jonah, it’ll be fine. But I know I’ll be ignored. They don’t have time for me anymore,” Hillary sighed and reached for the car door handle. The rain was pouring down but Hillary couldn’t very well sit there in the car all night.   
“Hillary...”  
“We’ll...talk,” Hillary said, Bill’s tone unnerving her. “Sometime soon. Okay?”  
“Fine,” Bill said, looking at Hillary and holding her gaze for a moment. “We’ll talk sometime. It’s a deal. Now I’m going to park the car and find a cab. Go on in. Run.” He hesitated before quickly giving Hillary a light peck on the cheek.   
Hillary exited the car and quickly ran through the rain from the car to the entrance of her building, holding the folder close to her like it was precious cargo. She ran into the lobby, politely greeted the doorman, and headed to the elevator. While waiting for the elevator, she felt somewhat hopeful for the first time in a long time as she remembered the details of the merger proposal.   
_Although what I said to Bill is true_ Hillary realized. _If I can’t get an appointment with Jonah Humphrey than everything will have been for nothing._  
And all of a sudden, as Hillary rode in the elevator up to the penthouse, the reality of the situation sunk in.   
_What have I been thinking? I’m crazy, aren’t I? Whatever’s in this folder, he’s not going to give me a second chance, is he? I’m not Hillary, the talented, sharp, ambitious Senior Partner anymore. I’m the total fuckup, embarrassment-to-the-firm, memory challenged Hillary_ Hillary sadly realized. _Jonah probably won’t even give me five minutes to talk to him let alone let me give an entire presentation._  
Hillary sighed as she got off the elevator and entered the apartment. She left the folder on her desk in the home office and went up to her bedroom to change into some dry clothes. She changed into a pair of comfortable black yoga pants, a grey camisole and a cashmere cream colored cardigan. She went back downstairs and made a cup of peppermint tea which she brought back upstairs to her bedroom. After everything that had happened that day, Hillary crawled under her bed covers and sunk back against the pillows, filled with disappointment.   
_So what? I learned a few things about myself_ Hillary shrugged to herself even though she was the only person in the room. _I got totally carried away. With Bill, with the merger, with...everything. This day was nice but it’s been a pipe dream. I’ll never save the Family Law department._ She took a small sip of her tea. _Jonah’s never going to ask for my opinion on anything ever again, let alone let me pitch a deal for a merger. Never in a million years. Not unless..._  
Not unless...  
 _No._  
 _I couldn’t? Could I?_  
Frozen in disbelief, Hillary put her cup of tea down on the nightstand beside her and grabbed the cordless phone out of its charging dock on the nightstand; something Jonah Humphrey had said to her the day before running through her head in a loop. 

_If you recovered your memory, then things would be different._

_If I recovered my memory, then things would be different_ Hillary realized. In a dreamlike trance, Hillary dialed a familiar number, a number she had memorized by heart.   
“Betsy,” Hillary said, after it was answered. “I know you’re mad at me right now but don’t say anything. Just listen to me. Hear me out. I just got this crazy idea...” 

To Be Continued...


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We just have to take a little detour with this chapter to see if Hillary can save her department at work or not, before she can start to sort out her complicated personal/romantic life lol. Enjoy!

_Think bitch. Think bitch boss from hell_ Hillary thought to herself while studying her reflection in the mirror and applying another coat of dark red lipstick. It was a shade that practically screamed “Bitch boss from hell.” Her hair was pinned back in its usual power bun and she was wearing the most ruthless “bitch boss from hell” outfit she could find in her closet: A slim black pencil skirt, a Houndstooth black and white patterned blouse , and the highest and pointiest pair of black stilettos that she owned. There was no mistaking what message she was trying to convey with that outfit: _I mean business_.   
She had spent two hours with Claire Nicholson at her office in Midtown Manhattan the day before and every time she remembered the meeting, Hillary felt a little thrill inside. Everything was in place for the merger and the two women both really wanted the merger and the deal to work out. Now it was all down to Hillary.   
“You need to look meaner,” Betsy said, coming up behind Hillary and standing beside her. She surveyed Hillary up and down. “You need to scowl more.”   
Hillary tried scrunching her nose up but it just made her look like she was about to sneeze.   
“No...” Betsy shook her head. “That’s still not it. You used to have a really chilling, icy cold stare. Like ‘Get out of my way right now, you insignificant minion.’” Betsy said in a tough, dismissive tone of voice, and narrowed her eyes, in order to demonstrate to Hillary.   
“Wow that was really good!” Hillary complimented. “Maybe you should do this instead.”  
“Yeah, right,” Betsy said, lightly chuckling at her best friend. “Go on, try it again. Scowl.”   
“Get out of my way, _I’m_ the boss and I’ll have things done _my_ way,” Hillary attempted, snarling and scowling in the mirror.   
“Yes! That was better,” Betsy complimented. “And don’t forget to flick your eyes past people, like you don’t even have the time to acknowledge their existence.”   
Hillary sighed and flopped down on the end of her bed. All of this pretending to be mean was exhausting. “I was a real bitch, wasn’t I, Bets?”   
“You weren’t that bad _all_ the time,” Betsy admitted. “But we can’t run the risk of someone realizing and the plan falling apart. So, the meaner, the better, Hillary.”  
Betsy had been coaching Hillary on how she used to act for the past day. She had called in sick to work the day before and had come over to Hillary’s apartment, bringing coffee and pastries for breakfast with her. By the end of the day, Betsy and Hillary had gotten so engrossed in what they were doing that Hillary had ended up ordering a pizza for them for dinner and they had cracked open a bottle of wine, too. Betsy had ended up sleeping over and they had had their own little slumber party of sorts, like they were teenagers again.   
And Betsy had done an amazing job teaching and coaching Hillary. Hillary knew _everything_ about the firm that she needed to know from the past five years. Her head was so crammed full of facts and information that she felt like it was about to explode. But that wasn’t even the most important part necessary for the plan to work.   
“And whenever you go into your office, _always_ slam the door shut really loudly,” Betsy instructed. “And _then_ come out and demand Elizabeth gets you a coffee. Always in that order.”  
The most important part of the plan was that Hillary act _exactly_ like the old bitch boss from hell Hillary and fool everybody. Hillary dropped her lipstick into her purse and picked up her briefcase.   
“Elizabeth, coffee _now_!” Hillary practiced.   
“Narrow your eyes a bit,” Betsy instructed, studying Hillary. “There you go,” Betsy nodded. “You’re all set.”   
“Betsy, really...thank you so much,” Hillary turned and gave her best friend a big hug. “You’re a superstar.”   
“If you can pull this off, you’ll be the real superstar, Hill,” Betsy complimented. She hesitated, “And...Even if you don’t pull it off. You didn’t have to make all of this effort, Hill. I know they’ll offer you a big and important job, even if they get rid of the Family Law department.”   
“Yeah, well...” Hillary awkwardly scratched her forehead. “That’s not the point. Now come on, let’s go.” 

As they rode to the office in a taxi together, Hillary was a bundle of nerves. She didn’t even feel like making small talk with Betsy.   
_This is crazy. I’m crazy_ Hillary thought to herself. _But this is the only way I can think of to save the department._  
“Jesus, I’m so nervous,” Betsy muttered as the cab pulled up to their office building. “And I’m not even the one doing it. I have no idea _how_ I’m going to keep a straight face in front of Michelle and Dana.”   
They hadn’t told the other girls what they were up to, figuring the less people that knew, the safer they would be.   
“Well, Betsy, you’ll just have to make an effort, okay?” Hillary practiced in her new bitch boss from hell Hillary voice and she nearly burst out laughing when she saw Betsy’s terrified facial expression.   
“Jesus, that’s _scary_ , Hillary. You’re _good_.”   
Hillary paid the taxi driver, practicing a mean-eyed glare as she did so.   
They walked inside the lobby of their office building and—  
“Chelsea?”   
Sitting on a couch in the lobby was Chelsea, wearing a black pantsuit, her purse resting on her lap.   
“ _Chelsea?_ What are you doing here?” Hillary asked in astonishment. "Is everything okay?"  
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Chelsea explained. “It’s the first day of my internship, mom. Remember?”   
“Oh, shoot,” Hillary suddenly realized. “Listen Chels, I’m so sorry but today really isn’t a good day and—”  
“She might be a good distraction,” Betsy suggested to Hillary in a low voice. “Can we trust her?”   
“Trust me?” Chelsea raised her eyebrows. “With what? What are you two up to?”   
“Okay,” Hillary sighed. “Listen, Chels.” Hillary lowered her voice. “You can come up and be an intern but here’s the thing. I’m telling everyone that my memory is back and I’m my old self again, to try to merge this firm with another big firm, in order to save the Family Law department. My memory isn’t really back but we’re pretending that it is. Got it?”   
Chelsea didn’t even bat an eyelid, and Hillary could tell she was taking it all in.   
“So you’re trying to make it seem like you’re the old you?” Chelsea asked.   
“Yes,” Hillary replied.   
“Well, then, I think you should look meaner,” Chelsea said.   
“That’s what I said!” Betsy agreed.   
“Look at everyone like you think everyone is...beneath you,” Chelsea explained.   
“Exactly,” Betsy agreed again.   
“Was I _ever_ nice to anybody?” Hillary asked, feeling a pang of hurt at how sure they both sounded, even her own daughter.   
“Um...yes!” Chelsea answered unconvincingly. Chelsea nervously swallowed. “Plenty of times.”   
“Come on, we better get upstairs,” Betsy piped in, to change the subject.   
Riding the elevator up to the 23rd floor, flanked by Chelsea and Betsy on either side of her, Hillary adopted the meanest face she could muster. She strode out of the elevator and over to the reception desk, with Betsy and Chelsea following.   
_Here we go_ Hillary thought. _Showtime._  
“Hello,” she meanly snarled at Jennifer, the receptionist. “You remember my daughter, Chelsea. She’s our new intern so please make her a security pass. And by the way, I’m fully recovered and I remember _everything_. If you’ve got any mail for me I want to know why it isn’t in my office already!” Hillary snapped.   
“Amazing!” Betsy whispered in Hillary’s ear.   
“There’s...no mail for you today, Hillary,” Jennifer seemed taken aback while she waited for the security badge to print out. “So, you’ve remembered...everything, Hillary?”   
“Yep, _everything_!” Hillary repeated. “Now come on, Betsy. We’re late enough already. I need to talk to the department. They’ve really been slacking off lately.”   
Hillary started confidently striding towards the stairs and a moment later she could hear Jennifer behind her nervously saying “Guess what? Hillary’s memory is back!” Hillary turned around and sure enough, Jennifer was on the phone with someone.   
As soon as they got to the stairwell, Betsy, Chelsea and Hillary all broke into fits of giggles.   
“Awesome job, Hillary!” Betsy lifted her hand for a high-five. “That was amazing!”   
They walked up one flight of stairs and immediately headed for Jonah Humphrey’s office, stopping at his assistant Amanda’s desk first. Hillary held her head high and confidently.   
“Hi, Amanda,” Hillary said shortly. “I assume you got my message about my memory being all recovered? Obviously I’ll need to speak to Jonah as soon as possible.”  
“Yes, I got your message,” Amanda nodded. “But the thing is, I’m afraid Jonah is quite booked up with meetings this morning—”  
“Then juggle things around! Bump somebody else! Do your job for Christ’s sake! It’s imperative that I see him this morning.” Hillary fake snapped.   
“Okay!” Amanda quickly consulted her appointment book. “I could fit you in at...how about ten?”   
“That would be ama—” Hillary stopped when Betsy elbowed her. “That’s fine!” Hillary barked and gave Amanda a nasty scowl for good measure. “Let’s go, Betsy.”  
 _God, this barking and snapping is exhausting_ Hillary thought to herself. And she had only been doing it for ten minutes.   
“So, where do we go now?” Chelsea asked Hillary while they walked down the hallway towards Hillary’s office.   
“To the Family Law department,” Hillary answered, suddenly feeling nervous. “I’ll have to keep this act up for another hour.”   
“Good luck,” Betsy encouragingly squeezed Hillary’s shoulder as they arrived at the main Family Law offices.   
_I can do this_ Hillary gave herself a silent pep talk in her head. _I can pretend to be a bitch boss from hell._  
“Reading _People_ magazine at work, are we?” Hillary snarled in a cruel, sarcastic tone of voice to one of the Family Law employees.   
The girl who had been flipping through a _People_ magazine while cradling the phone under her chin jumped in surprise and hastily closed her magazine. “I was just...on hold with Accounting!”   
“I’ll be speaking to you all about your attitudes later,” Hillary glared around the room. “And that reminds me. Didn’t I ask for full written and broken down travel expense reports two months ago? I want to see them on my desk by four o’clock today!”   
“We thought you forgot about that,” Dana said, looking slightly terrified.   
“Well I’ve remembered,” Hillary gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ve remembered _everything_ actually. And don’t forget that you all are relying on me for your reference letters.”   
She started walking down the hallway towards her office and almost ran straight into Samantha.   
“Hillary!” Samantha nearly dropped her coffee cup in surprise. “What’s going on—”  
“Samantha! I need to talk to you immediately about Bennett Raines. Did he end up going with another firm? Because we all know his reputation for pulling a fast one. Need I remind you of the September 1998 fiasco?”   
Samantha’s mouth was hanging open in shock.   
“And I want to talk to you about the Romero family custody dispute when you get a chance later today. We need a new strategy. The last strategy that was pitched to me was an absolute disaster!” She took a few more steps towards her office before turning around to look at Samantha again. “And that reminds me, Samantha. Where are the minutes of our last meeting with the Dawson’s about their divorce proceedings? I seem to recall you were the one taking them.”   
“I’ll...get those to you right away,” Samantha answered, seeming absolutely shocked and confused.   
Everything was going according to plan exactly as Hillary hoped it would.   
_Betsy is a total genius!_ Hillary excitedly thought.   
“So...you’re recovered then?” Samantha asked in confusion as Hillary opened her office door. “Are you back for good then?”   
“Oh, yes. I’m back. I’m fully recovered now,” Hillary answered while ushering Chelsea inside her office before she slammed the door shut...hard. She waited a moment before she stormed back out of the office. “Elizabeth, a coffee. _Now_. And get one for my daughter Chelsea, as well. And send Betsy in here right away.”   
As Betsy entered Hillary’s office and closed the door behind her, Hillary flopped down on the couch in her office, breathless.   
“You should be an actress, Hillary!” Betsy exclaimed. “That was brilliant! That was _exactly_ the way you used to act!”   
Hillary was cringing on the inside. She still couldn’t _believe_ she used to act that way.   
“So now we just have to wait until ten,” Betsy said, looking at her watch. “It’s nine-fifteen now.”   
There was a knock on the office door causing Hillary, Betsy, and Chelsea to all freeze.   
“Quick!” Betsy said. “Get behind the desk and sound angry and impatient.”   
Hillary scurried over to her desk chair and Betsy quickly sat down in the opposite chair across from Hillary.   
“Come in,” Hillary said, trying to muster a short and harried tone.   
Her office door opened and Elizabeth appeared, holding a styrofoam tray with two coffees from Starbucks. Hillary pretended to be reprimanding Betsy.   
“So Betsy...I’ve just had it up to here with your attitude lately!” Hillary improvised as Elizabeth passed the coffee cups to Hillary and Chelsea respectively. “It’s...unacceptable behaviour! What have you got to say for yourself?”   
“Sorry...Hillary...” Betsy mumbled while looking at the ground. Hillary could tell she was trying to stifle her laughter.   
“Yes...well...I’m the boss!” Hillary snapped, trying her best to keep a straight face. And I won’t have you...” Hillary was drawing a blank all of a sudden. “I won’t have you...I won’t have you making personal calls at work!”   
A kind of snort crossed with a laugh came from Betsy.   
“Um...Hillary...” Elizabeth piped in, looking petrified. “Sorry to interrupt but Sophia is here? With her new baby?”  
 _Sophia?_ Hillary was drawing a blank. _That name means nothing to me_ Hillary thought.   
Betsy suddenly sat straight up in her seat and looked at Hillary's assistant. “Sophia, as in the Sophia who worked here last year?” Betsy nervously glanced over at Hillary. “I didn’t know she was coming in for a visit today.”   
Elizabeth nodded. “It’s been on Hillary’s schedule for the past few days. We’re giving her a gift for the baby and we thought that maybe Hillary could present it to her?” Through her open office door, Hillary could see a crowd gathering around a dark haired woman holding a baby in a baby carrier. She looked up at Hillary and waved.   
“Hillary! Come and see the baby!” She called out.   
_Shit. There’s no way out of this_ Hillary realized. She couldn’t refuse to come and meet a former co-worker’s baby. It would look too suspicious.   
“Well...okay,” Hillary gave in. “Just for a minute though. I’m very...busy.”   
“Sophia worked here for about a year,” Betsy muttered to Hillary while they were leaving Hillary’s office. “She was a legal assistant. She sat by the window, she drank a lot of herbal tea...”   
“Here we are,” Elizabeth said, handing Hillary the gift that she was supposed to present to Sophia. “It’s a bottle warmer.”   
As she got closer, several of her coworkers backed away from Hillary. And to be honest, she couldn’t blame them.   
“Hi, Hillary,” Sophia sweetly smiled at her, glowing from all the attention she was receiving.   
“Hello,” Hillary nodded curtly. Usually she loved babies but she didn’t have the time or energy to deal with this today. “Congratulations, Sophia. And this is...a girl? Or boy?”   
“This is Liam! You’ve met him before. You were at my baby shower,” Sophia said, seeming offended.   
Somehow Hillary forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. “I’m not really...into babies.” She lied.   
“Anyways, on behalf of the Family Law department, I’d like to give you this,” she handed the gift bag over to Sophia.   
“How about a speech?” Elizabeth prompted.   
“Oh I don’t think that’s necessary,” Hillary tried, glaring at Elizabeth. “Everybody get back to—”  
“Yes it is necessary!” Michelle objected. “This is basically Sophia’s goodbye party. She deserves to have a speech.”   
Hillary swallowed nervously when she realized she couldn’t really refuse to do this either. Bosses give speeches about their employees.   
“Right. Of course,” Hillary cleared her throat. “We’re all very happy for Sophia on the birth of Liam. But we are sorry to have to say goodbye to such a valuable member of the team.”   
She noticed Samantha joining the cluster of people who had gathered. She was staring at Hillary suspiciously over her coffee cup.   
“Sophia was always...” Hillary took a sip of coffee, playing for time. “She was always...so sweet. Sitting by the window...drinking her tea. Assisting all of us.”   
She looked up and saw Betsy frantically miming something at Hillary.   
“We all remember Sophia for her love of...swimming?” Hillary said uncertainly.   
“Swimming?” Sophia asked looking confused. “Did you mean yoga?”   
“Yes! Yoga!” Hillary corrected herself. “And we all appreciated your efforts with the clients.”   
“I didn’t work with the clients,” Sophia was angrily staring at Hillary with outrage in her eyes. “I worked directly with the lawyers. Did you ever even notice exactly what I _did_ , Hillary?”   
“Tell the story about Sophia and the photocopier!” Someone in the back of the room called out and there was a chorus of cheers and laughter.   
“No!” Hillary snapped, feeling flustered. “So, anyways...here’s to Sophia.” Hillary raised her coffee cup in the air.   
“Oh come on, Hillary. Don’t you remember the story?” Samantha asked.   
Hillary glanced over at her and suddenly her blood ran cold. She realized that Samantha had figured out it was all a ruse.   
“Of course I _remember_ ,” Hillary snapped, summoning a cunning and vengeful tone of voice. “But it’s not the time to tell silly stories right now. We need to get back to work. Back to your desks, everybody.”   
“God, I forgot what a bitch she is,” Sophia muttered to somebody. “Is it me or is she even worse than she was before!?”   
“Wait!” Samantha’s voice rose above the irritated muttering and chatter. “We forgot to give Sophia her other present. The gift certificate to the spa.” She carried the slip of paper over to Hillary with an overconfident swagger in her step. “We just need to fill out Sophia’s name. You should do it, Hillary, being the Senior Partner and all.”   
“Sure,” Hillary said, taking the pen and gift certificate from Samantha.   
“It needs her _full name_ ,” Samantha emphasized. Hillary looked up and Samantha’s eyes were glinting mischievously.   
_Fuck. She definitely knows_ Hillary realized.   
“No problem,” Hillary said curtly. “Sophia...just remind me what name you’re going by these days.”   
“The same as before,” Sophia said awkwardly, cradling her son. “My maiden name.”   
“Uh-huh,” Hillary said, and as slowly as she could muster, she carefully wrote _Sophia_ on the dotted line.   
“Don’t forget the last name,” Samantha teased.   
Hillary looked at Betsy desperately who was mouthing something at Hillary but Hillary couldn’t make it out.   
_Valentino? Valentine?_  
As slowly as she could, Hillary carefully wrote a V. Then she paused, put her pen down and starting stretching and rolling her wrist. “You know, I’ve been having issues with my wrist ever since the accident. The muscles don’t want to cooperate sometimes...” she played for time.   
“Let’s face it, Hillary,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “You can stop pretending. The act is up.”   
“What are you talking about?” Hillary snapped. “Let me just take this back to my office to sign—”  
“Oh, give me a break,” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Who do you think you’re kidding, Hillary? Do you really want me to believe—”  
“Hey!” Chelsea’s voice boomed from across the room, as she created a distraction, getting everybody’s attention. “Look outside! Is that George Clooney?”   
“George Clooney?”  
“Where?”  
Samantha was drowned out by everybody rushing over to look out the window. Michelle shoved Dana out of the way and even Sophia was craning her neck to look.   
_I’ve never loved Chelsea more than I do in this moment_ Hillary realized, smiling to herself. She was definitely her mother's daughter.   
“Right,” Hillary said in a professional manner. “Well, I must get back to work. Elizabeth, can you finish filling this out, please?” She thrust the spa gift certificate into her assistant’s hands.   
“It was George Clooney! I swear!” Hillary could hear Chelsea insisting. “I saw him! We should call _Us Weekly_!”   
“Guys, she hasn’t remembered a fucking thing!” Samantha was shouting over the commotion, trying to make her voice heard. “She’s acting you guys!”   
“I have a meeting with Jonah Humphrey to get to. Chelsea, wait in my office please. Get back to work everybody!” Hillary snapped in her best scary-Hillary bitch boss from hell manner.   
She turned on her heel and strode away quickly before Samantha could say anything else to her.   
* * *   
Jonah Humphrey’s assistant Amanda gestured to Hillary to take a seat in the waiting area outside of his office when she and Betsy arrived. Hillary sunk down into the sofa, still feeling a bit unsteady from the altercation she had nearly had with Samantha.   
“Oh, are you both seeing Jonah?” Amanda asked Hillary in confusion, noticing Betsy was there too.   
“No, Betsy’s just here because...”   
Hillary paused, trying to think of a reason. It wasn’t like she could come out and say “moral support.”  
“I had a question for Hillary about a case,” Betsy improvised, smoothly and calmly. “She was just helping me out. She really is fully recovered and back to her old self.”   
Amanda raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Okay, then.”   
A moment later the phone rang and Amanda picked it up. “Uh-huh...No problem, Jonah. I’ll let her know.” She hung up the phone and looked at Hillary. “Hillary, Jonah’s in with Thomas Sutherland and a few other members of the Board right now.”  
“Thomas Sutherland? The chairman of the board?” Hillary nervously asked.   
Amanda nodded, “Yep. Jonah said you can just go in and join the meeting in a few minutes. In about five minutes or so. Okay?”   
“Um, yes, that sounds good,” Hillary nervously nodded. “Um...Betsy, I need to re-apply my lipstick. Let’s continue our discussion in the ladies room.”   
Hillary was surprised at how nervous she felt. She hadn’t been counting on having to speak to the law firm’s board of directors, _as well_ as her boss.   
“Um, sure,” Betsy said, looking surprised. But she shrugged and got up to follow Hillary to the washroom anyways. 

“I can’t do this, Betsy,” Hillary said as she pushed open the door to the ladies room a few moments later.   
“What do you mean?”   
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Hillary admitted, tightly clutching her green folder against her chest. “This was such a stupid plan. How am I going to manage to impress Thomas Sutherland? I know I’ve given presentations and speeches before and they’ve gone off without a hitch but I’m so scared, Betsy—”  
“You’ll be fine, Hill!” Betsy interrupted her. “You’ve given speeches to the entire firm before. You’re always excellent at giving speeches. You just said so yourself.”   
“Really?” Hillary asked helplessly.   
“You know I wouldn’t lie to you, Hillary,” Betsy responded.   
Hillary nodded.   
“You could do this in your sleep, Hill,” Betsy encouraged. “You gave a speech at a big family law conference in Chicago a few months ago and you were amazing. You just have to believe in yourself.”   
“I just don’t know, Bets,” Hillary replied, feeling uncharacteristically unsure of herself. “Maybe I was never cut out to be a boss, after all. Maybe I should just step down—”  
“Hillary, no! You were always destined to be a Senior Partner one day! Next step, managing partner.”   
“That’s really nice of you to say, Bets,” Hillary said, her voice slightly shaking. “But when I was promoted to partner, I obviously couldn’t cope with it! I alienated you and the other girls, I didn’t do a good job of managing the department, and we lost clients left and right. Honestly...I fucked everything up. And they know it.” She gestured with her head out the door. “That’s why I was demoted. Why am I even trying to save the department?”   
“Hillary, you didn’t fuck anything up. I promise,” Betsy insisted. “You were a great boss.”   
“Yeah, right,” Hillary scoffed, rolling her eyes.   
“You _were_. I swear,” Betsy reiterated, a tender expression on her face. “We...didn’t give you a fair chance. We were all jealous of you so we gave you a tough time.” She hesitated. “Yes, sometimes you were impatient and you took your anger out on us harshly. But you did some amazing things for the firm and for the department. You are great at motivating people. You won a ton of cases and made sure that the rest of us won our cases, too. Everyone felt motivated and passionate about their jobs with you as our boss. People _wanted_ to impress you. We all admire you for everything you’ve accomplished.”   
“But you guys made me sound like such a bitch?” Hillary asked in confusion. Betsy’s words were helping but she still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “All of you.”   
Betsy nodded, “Sure, you were a bitch sometimes. But sometimes you needed to be.” She hesitated again. “Dana was getting a bit careless with her expenses. She deserved a bit of a kick in the ass. But you didn’t hear that from me.” Betsy gave Hillary a sly grin and Hillary couldn’t help but grin back and chuckle slightly.   
“The thing is, Hill...We were jealous.” She gave Hillary an earnest look.   
“Jealous?”   
Betsy shrugged, “One minute you were just plain old Hillary Rodham Clinton, our friend and fellow associate. The next thing we knew, you had amazing hair, gorgeous teeth, and you had lost a ton of weight. You had your own corner office. Suddenly you were in charge and telling _us_ what to do.”   
“I know,” Hillary sighed. “It’s...crazy. I still find it hard to believe sometimes.”  
“It’s not crazy,” Betsy smiled at Hillary and put her hands on Hillary’s shoulders, slightly squeezing them in a reassuring manner. “They made the right decision, making you a senior partner. You can be a boss, Hillary. You can do this. I believe in you. You’re a million times better than fucking _Samantha_.”   
Hillary chuckled and instantly her spirits felt lifted. She was so touched by Betsy’s words; she didn’t quite know what to say.   
“I just want to be...one of you,” she managed to get out. “I just want to be a part of the team again with you and everybody else.”  
“You will be. You _are_ ,” Betsy reassured her, gently rubbing Hillary’s back. “But _somebody_ has to be the boss.”   
Hillary nodded.   
“Just do it, Hillary. Don’t think about it, don’t look back. Just give this presentation and kick some ass,” Betsy chuckled.   
Hillary chuckled and nodded again.   
The door to the washroom was pushed open and both ladies jumped in surprise.   
“Hillary?” It was Amanda. “There you are. I was wondering where you had went! Are you ready? Jonah’s ready for you now.”   
Hillary glanced one last time at Betsy who gave her an encouraging smile in return. Hillary confidently lifted her chin up in the air and nodded.   
“Yes. I’m ready.”   
* * *  
 _I can do this. I can do this_ Hillary kept repeating in her head as she walked into Jonah Humphrey’s office, a confident but businesslike smile plastered on her face.   
“Hillary,” Jonah politely greeted her with a smile. “Nice to see you again. Here, have a seat.”   
Hillary joined the managing partners and board members who were sitting around a small table that was off to the side in Jonah’s office. A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair who Hillary recognized as Thomas Sutherland was making small talk with one of the managing partners.   
“So, Hillary. I hear your memory is recovered!” Jonah enthusiastically said, handing Hillary a cup of coffee. “That’s fantastic news!”   
“Yes. It’s great!” Hillary earnestly nodded, keeping up the ruse.   
“We were just going through the implications of August 2000,” Jonah explained, nodding at the papers spread out over the table. “This is actually good timing, Hillary, because I know you had some strong opinions about the amalgamations of some of the departments. Do you know everyone here?” He gestured around the table.   
“Actually,” Hillary placed the green folder on the table. “Actually, I wanted to speak to you...to all of you...about something else today.”   
Thomas Sutherland looked at Hillary, frowning. “What is it?”   
“Family Law.”  
Jonah cringed. Hillary heard someone in the room mutter “Jesus Christ.”  
“Hillary,” Jonah said in a firm voice. “We’ve already gone over this before. We’ve moved on. We’re no longer taking or working on family law cases after this month.”   
“But I have a potential merger! Between Rose and Associates and another firm. That’s what we need to discuss today.” Hillary took a deep breath and continued. “Biden, Pelosi, and Associates want to start offering family law as one of their services and are willing to merge with our firm to make it happen. And in return, we get their corporate law resources and expertise. It’ll raise Rose and Associates profile to merge with one of the biggest law firms in the city and it’ll completely turn the Family Law department around!” Hillary felt elated and confident. “I know it’ll motivate the Family Law department and will be the start of something huge and exciting!”   
Hillary paused to survey everybody’s faces.   
And immediately she saw it. She hadn’t made an impact whatsoever. Thomas Sutherland was frowning impatiently. Jonah looked furious. Another person was typing away on their laptop, not even paying attention.   
“I thought a decision on Family Law had already been made,” Thomas Sutherland impatiently asked Jonah. “Why has it come up again?”   
“It _has_ been decided already, Thomas,” Jonah said apologetically, glaring at Hillary. “Hillary, I don’t _know_ what you _think_ you’re doing—”  
“I’m doing business,” Hillary simply retorted with an edge to her tone of voice.   
“Hillary,” Thomas Sutherland addressed her. “Rose and Associates is moving forward as a law firm. It’s the new millennium. We have to move forward with the times and not remain stuck in our old ways.”   
“I’m not doing that,” Hillary insisted, trying not to raise her voice. “I want to move forward with the times, too. This merger would be a big step in that direction.”   
“Does this have to do with your husband?” Jonah asked in confusion. “Hillary’s husband is a major real estate developer here in New York,” Jonah explained to the others. “I’m sure he has lots of friends who are going through divorces. But look, I’m sorry, Hillary. You’re not going to save your department by simply taking on a few of your rich friend’s high profile divorces.”   
_Seriously? Is that all they think I’m capable of?_ Hillary thought, her frustration bubbling to the surface. _Taking on a few of Derek’s friends divorces? Where did he come up with this? Well, once they hear all about this merger, they’ll...they’ll..._  
Hillary was working herself up, ready to tell them all about the merger and getting ready to blow them away.   
_I can do this_ She psyched herself up in her head.   
“Well, if you _really_ want to know...” she began, her eyes narrowed in a businesslike fashion.   
And then suddenly, she paused. She couldn’t continue. She changed her mind. She took a deep breath as she suddenly felt resigned and calm. She sighed.   
“So...you’ve really made your final decision?” She asked, in a calmer and more acquiescent tone of voice.   
“We made our decision a long time ago,” Jonah responded. “As you very well know, Hillary.”   
Hillary nodded, “Right.” She sighed again, disappointed. But a second later, a thought came to her and she perked right back up. “Well...if you’re not interested, maybe I could resign and go work at Biden, Pelosi, and Associates? And take the Family Law department with me. If they’ll have us, that is.”  
“Jesus Christ,” Thomas Sutherland muttered.   
“Hillary, please. Don’t waste your time,” Jonah urged. “You still have a position here at Rose and Associates. You have prospects here. We were thinking you could mentor new interns and First Year Associates. There is no need for this kind of a grand gesture. Please don’t quit.”   
Hillary shrugged, “I want to. I can have my resignation letter to you by this afternoon.”   
The managing partners and members of the board awkwardly exchanged looks with each other around the room.   
“She hit her head pretty hard in a car accident,” Jonah muttered to the person beside him who Hillary didn’t recognize, as if to explain. “She hasn’t been normal since then. I just feel sorry for her, really.”  
“Let’s just sort this out,” Thomas Sutherland said in an impatient tone of voice.   
“I agree,” Jonah nodded. “You really want to resign, Hillary?”  
Hillary nodded, “Yes.”   
Jonah nodded again. “Well, in that case...I know we talked about you taking a three month medical leave of absence. But if you want to leave the firm that badly...don’t bother resigning. By mutual agreement, I think that your employment here should be terminated immediately instead.”   
“Fine,” Hillary acquiesced, nodding. “I...I understand. Goodbye. And thank you for all of the opportunities the firm has given me over the years.”  
Hillary abruptly got out of her chair, briskly turned around and walked away without turning back. On her way out she could hear Jonah saying, “What a _shame_. She had so much potential. She’d worked here for twenty years you know...”   
* * *   
Betsy was waiting for her as Hillary reached the top of the stairs on the 24th floor.   
“So?” Betsy asked, her eyebrows raised and her eyes full of anticipation.   
“They fired me,” Hillary answered, very matter of fact, shrugging. “I was going to quit anyways though.” They started walking towards the Family Law offices. “And it’s not all over yet.”   
“There she is,” Samantha said, walking down the hall towards them. “Our miracle recovery girl.”   
“Shut up,” Hillary retorted at her.   
“Are we really supposed to believe that you suddenly recovered your memory out of the blue?” Samantha sarcastically bit back. “You’re really going to just get back into the swing of things? Just like that?”  
Hillary gave Samantha a blank stare.   
“Who’s she?” She jokingly asked Betsy and both women broke out into a fit of laughter.   
“Haha, very funny,” Samantha snapped, her cheeks turning pink. “But if you think—”  
“Oh, just cut it out, Samantha,” Hillary said with a heavy sigh. “You can _have_ my fucking job, okay?”  
They had arrived at the Family Law department’s offices and Hillary clapped her hands together to get everybody’s attention.   
“Hi,” Hillary said, managing to smile as everyone looked up at her. “I just wanted to inform everybody that my memory’s not back, I’m not cured. I lied to all of you. I was trying to pull off a massive ruse, in order to try and save the department. But...I failed. It didn’t work. And I’m really, really, sorry.”   
She looked out at her coworkers, who were staring at her agog. With a regretful expression on her face, she continued. “I did everything I could to save your jobs but it didn’t work.” She sighed again. “Anyways. The other news is that, they’ve fired me. Effective immediately. So that means, Samantha, over to you.”   
She noticed the shocked and terrified expression on Samantha’s face and she couldn’t help but give a rueful little half-smile. “And to all of you who hated me or thought I was a bitch from hell or whatever...” she took in everybody’s silent, agog faces one last time. “I’m sorry. I know I should have and could have been a better boss to you all. I did my best though. I tried. Cheers, and good luck with your job searches, everybody.”   
She gave an awkward wave goodbye.   
“Thanks, Hillary,” Michelle said awkwardly. “Thanks for at least trying to save our jobs.”  
“Yeah...thanks for trying,” her assistant Elizabeth uncertainly chimed in.   
Hillary was shocked when somebody started applauding for her. And then suddenly, the whole room was clapping.   
“You, guys, stop it,” Hillary insisted, feeling touched, as she started blinking back her tears. “You guys are too kind. I didn’t do anything. I _failed_. I didn’t get your jobs back.”   
She glanced over at Betsy for backup but Betsy was grinning at Hillary and clapping the hardest out of everybody.  
Hillary took a deep breath and tried to keep her composure. She managed to weakly smile, feeling touched by everyone’s outpouring of affection and support. “So anyways, like I said, I’ve been fired. I have a few phone calls to make but after that, I’ll be going to the bar across the street to get drunk.” Everybody chuckled. “I know it’s barely eleven o’clock but...does anyone care to join me perhaps?”  
* * *   
By three o’clock, Hillary’s bar tab was well over five hundred dollars. Most of the Family Law employees had gone back to the office by now, including an impatient Samantha, who had been in and out of the bar for the past four hours, demanding that everybody return to work.   
It was one of the best parties Hillary had ever been to in her entire life. When she had pulled out her platinum credit card and told the bar staff to put everybody’s bill on her tab, the bar employees had cranked up the music for them and even provided them with free appetizers that were on the house. Betsy had given a speech and Hillary had even let Chelsea drink a glass of white wine, considering that Chelsea was only a few months away from turning twenty-one—until the bar staff realized Chelsea was underage and kicked her out (Hillary had told her to go back to the office and that Hillary would meet her there later, but she was pretty sure that Chelsea had gone shopping instead).   
Everybody had had a great time; the only people who hadn’t gotten completely wasted were Hillary and Michelle. Michelle because of her pregnancy and Hillary couldn’t because she had a job interview at four-thirty with the head of Human Resources at Biden, Pelosi, and Associates. And if that interview went well, then she would hopefully also be interviewing with the managing partner Joe Biden that day as well.   
“So,” Betsy lifted her glass of Chardonnay. “To us.” Betsy, Michelle, Hillary, and Dana all clinked their glasses together. It was just the four of them sitting around a table in the bar now. Just like things were five years before.   
“To being unemployed,” Dana slurred, taking a sip of her vodka martini. “Not that we blame you at all, Hillary.” She reassured Hillary.   
Hillary took a swig of her Chardonnay and leaned forward. “Okay, you guys. I have something to tell you. But you have to keep it on the down low.”   
“What is it?” Michelle asked, her eyes bright. “Are you pregnant, too?”   
Hillary chuckled, “Oh God, no. That time has long passed for me, sweetie.” Hillary laughed again. “I tried doing a merger between our firm and another one. That what I was trying to tell Jonah Humphrey about. Obviously the merger didn’t work out but...I still have a job interview with that firm in about an hour and twenty minutes. They want me to lead a new Family Law department that they’re starting at their firm and they said if I get the job I could bring a few of my former team members with me...”   
Hillary looked around the table expectantly, waiting for the news to sink in.   
“So...who are you going to take with you then if you get it?” Dana asked in confusion, the alcohol obviously affecting her comprehension skills.   
“You guys, you dummy,” Hillary teased, laughing.   
“ _Us_?” Michelle asked, shocked. Her face glowing, partly from her pregnancy glow, partly from Hillary’s news. “You want _us_ to work with you at your new firm?”   
“Well, that is... if you’re interested,” Hillary said, awkwardly. “I mean think about it first obviously. It's a big decision. It would be a big change, I know. It’s just an idea.” She shrugged.   
“Well, I’m in,” Betsy said confidently, reaching for a french fry from the basket in the middle of the table and taking a bite. “Go and kill it in that interview, Hill. Give them hell. But I still don’t understand what happened in Jonah’s office. Didn’t they get excited when you told them who the merger was with? Are they _crazy_? They must be crazy...”   
“They didn’t care,” Hillary shrugged again. “They assumed I was doing it as a favor to Derek’s friends, to help them get good lawyers for their inevitable divorces.” Hillary chuckled to herself at the ridiculousness of it all.   
“So, who is it anyways then?” Dana asked. “Which firm is it?”   
Hillary glanced over at Betsy and both them exchanged tiny, hopeful, excited smiles as Hillary simply answered, “Biden, Pelosi, and Associates.” 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters left and then this one will be done :( Hillary still has some decisions left to make on the relationship front... ;)


	24. Chapter 23

The next day, everything was set. Hillary had met with the head of Human Resources at Biden, Pelosi, and Associates the day before and she had also interviewed with Joe Biden. Everything had gone wonderfully and she was coming home after her second and final job interview with Joe Biden, where he had formally offered her a position at the firm. Human Resources would be faxing her formal job offer and contract over to her later that day, all she had to do was officially sign her contract and she would be all set to start working there in two weeks.   
As she arrived home to the penthouse after her interview, she was still running on adrenaline from the past few days’ events. She was so excited and couldn’t wait to call her friends and fill them in on the new developments. She was thrilled to be able to tell them that their job offers were also on their way, in the coming days. Everything in her meetings and job interviews had gone exactly according to plan.   
She was buzzing with excitement as she got off the elevator and stepped into the penthouse. She could hear voices coming from the home office down the hall. She realized Derek must have returned home from his business trip while she had been meeting with Joe Biden.   
She walked down the hall and peaked her head into the office. She saw Derek and a small group of his senior staff sitting around Derek’s desk, talking, with an empty coffee pot set to the side.   
His business partner and Whitney’s husband Dan was there, along with a woman, Genevieve who Hillary recognized as the head of Human Resources for Derek’s company, and another man, Vincent, whose role in the company Hillary still wasn’t quite exactly sure of.   
“Hey!” Hillary smiled brightly at Derek, still feeling like she was floating on Cloud 9. “How was your trip, sweetheart?”   
“It was fantastic,” He politely smiled at Hillary before frowning in confusion at her. “Why aren’t you at work right now, honey?”   
“Um...we’ll talk later, sweetie,” Hillary hastily answered. She cleared her throat. “A lot of stuff has happened the past few days...more coffee, anybody?” She was feeling particularly generous after the amazing morning she had just had.   
“Lucinda will take care of it, sweetheart,” Derek said disapprovingly.   
“It’s no trouble! Really,” Hillary politely insisted. "It's just a few cups of coffee."   
She happily hummed as she headed towards the kitchen and she quickly called Betsy, Dana, and Michelle while a fresh pot of coffee was brewing, to tell them that everything had gone well and to let them know that their job offers were on their way in the coming days. She had already gotten an email from Michelle that morning saying how excited she was for the new opportunity and she had included a list of ideas and possible contacts in order to help them find and attract new prospective clients.   
_We’re going to make an incredible team_ Hillary happily thought. _I just know it._  
She walked back to the home office, carrying the fresh pot of coffee and started refilling everyone’s empty coffee cups while discreetly listening in on the discussion they were having. She noticed Genevieve was holding some kind of list in her hand.  
“I hate to say it but I don’t think Leah West deserves a raise _or_ a bonus this quarter,” Hillary overheard Genevieve saying as Hillary poured her coffee. “Her work performance has been very average. Thanks, Hillary.”   
“I like Leah,” Hillary piped in, shrugging. “She’s been taking care of her sick mother recently. Did you know that?”   
“Hmm, really?” Genevieve asked, but she was giving Hillary a look that said she couldn’t care less.   
“Hillary talked to all of the secretaries and junior staff when she visited the office a few weeks ago,” Derek explained, chuckling and seeming slightly embarrassed. “She’s very good at that sort of thing. Connecting with people.”   
“It’s not a ‘sort of thing’, Derek,” Hillary retorted sharply, not liking his tone at all. “We just got to talking. She’s a really interesting person who has had a rough life. That’s all.” Hillary shrugged again.   
Everyone stared blankly at Hillary for a moment before they went right back to ignoring her.   
“ _Anyways_ , moving on,” Genevieve referred back to her list. “We’ve agreed, no bonus or raise for Leah this quarter but perhaps we can review her work performance again in December. Now, onto Trevor Thompson...”   
“Excuse me!” Hillary knew it wasn’t her place at all but she couldn’t bear it any longer. She put the coffee pot down on Derek’s desk with a thud and Genevieve stopped talking in surprise. “I’m sorry but can I just say one thing? The thing is...a bonus may not be much money to the company, in a huge multimillion dollar company like Derek’s. It’s nothing for the company’s bottom line. I know that. But...it’s a huge deal for someone like Leah West. I know it was a while ago for all of us but don’t _any_ of you remember what it was like to be young, and starting out in life; to be poor and struggling?” She looked around at Derek and his staff, in their fancy suits, with their expensive electronic devices. “Like I said, it was obviously a long time ago, but I still remember what it was like to be young and to have to save every single little penny.” She paused as she fondly remembered what life was like when her and Bill were still graduate students at Yale, when life was simpler; she happily remembered the first house they ever lived in in Arkansas for a year before they found their jobs in New York and moved.   
“Hillary, we all know you’re a kind soul,” Vincent said, rolling his eyes at Hillary. “But what are you saying? That we should _all_ be poor?”   
“I’m not saying you have to be poor,” Hillary retorted, trying to remain as calm as possible and not let her impatience show. “I’m just saying, you should remember what it was like, to be at the bottom of the ladder. It’s a lifetime away from all of us,” she gestured around the room and included herself, “But that was me, thirty years ago. I know what it’s like to have no money, to be desperately hoping for a bonus or a raise, wondering if I’d ever get a break in life...” She stopped and shrugged when she realized she was getting carried away. “All I’m saying is that, I know from experience that if you give Leah a bonus this quarter, she will really appreciate it.”   
There was an awkward silence in the room. Hillary stared over at Derek and he had a tight, unimpressed, rigid smile fixed on his face. Hillary was pretty sure he was clenching his teeth.   
“ _Okay then_ ,” Genevieve raised her eyebrows and marked something down on her list. “Well...we’ll come back to Leah West later then.”  
Hillary nodded, “Good. I’m sorry to have interrupted. Carry on.”  
She picked up the coffee pot and silently walked out of the room.   
_Maybe they’ll give a bonus to Leah after all or maybe they won’t. But at least I said my piece and gave my opinion_ Hillary confidently thought as she returned the coffee pot to the kitchen. She picked up that day’s _New York Times_ that had been left on the kitchen table and she was just skimming the front page stories when Derek suddenly appeared in the kitchen.   
“Oh, hi, sweetie,” Hillary awkwardly said. “Are you guys taking a break?”   
“Hillary. A word. _Now._ ” He gestured for her to follow him upstairs to the master bedroom which Hillary did, swiftly and silently. He closed the bedroom door behind her, the horrific tight smile still plastered on his face.   
“Hillary, please don’t interfere with my business again.”   
“Derek, I’m sorry I interrupted your meeting,” Hillary sincerely apologized. “But I was only expressing my opinion.”  
“I don’t need your opinion, Hillary.”  
“But shouldn’t we talk about things? Isn’t it _good_ to discuss things?” Hillary asked in absolute astonishment. “Even if we disagree on some subjects? Isn’t that what keeps relationships and marriages alive? Talking? Communication?”   
“I disagree.”  
He still had the rigid smile plastered on his face, as if he was trying to hide how angry with Hillary he actually was.   
And then suddenly...as if a switch had been flicked on in her brain, a light bulb turned on inside of Hillary’s head and everything clicked.   
_I don’t know this man at all. He's a complete stranger to me still. What the hell am I doing still being married to him?_ Hillary suddenly realized. _I don’t love him. I have no idea what I’m still doing here._  
“Derek...I’m sorry,” Hillary hastily apologized. “I...I won’t do it again.” She walked across the room over to the bedroom window and looked down at the street below while she tried to gather her overwhelming thoughts. She eventually figured out what she wanted to say and turned around to look at Derek. “Derek, can I ask you something? Since we’re talking now? What do you genuinely think? About our marriage? About us? About...everything I guess?”  
“I think we’ve made good progress,” Derek said, nodding. Hillary could sense a change in his mood, as if he could relax now that they had moved on to a different subject. “We’re slowly but surely becoming more intimate...you’re slowly recovering your memory, you’ve had some flashbacks...you’ve learned everything about our marriage from the marriage manual...I don’t know. I think everything is all coming together nicely. These are all good things, honey. Don't you think?”   
_He sounds so businesslike_ Hillary realized. _As if he’s giving a formal presentation...How can he think these things when he’s not interested in my opinions or ideas, what I think about things or even...who I really am?_  
“Derek, I’m sorry,” Hillary apologized, sadly sighing as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “But I disagree. We haven’t become more intimate...not really, anyways. And... I have a confession to make. I made up the flashback.”   
Eric opened his mouth in shock. “You made it up? You lied? Why?”  
 _Because it was that or taking a bath with you...naked_ Hillary wanted to say but she kept her mouth shut and went the more polite route.  
“I guess...I mean...I guess I just really _wanted_ my memory to have come back for real,” She managed to come up with. “But the truth is, I’ve still remembered absolutely nothing since the accident. You’re still just a random guy I met a few weeks ago.”   
Derek sat down on the bed beside Hillary and they both silently stared off into space, thinking. Hillary picked up a framed photograph of the two of them from their wedding day that was on the nightstand. They were toasting each other and smiling, looking blissfully happy and excited if you weren’t looking at the photo closely. But looking at it carefully, Hillary could see her strained smile and her tired eyes. The photo looked so formal and...posed.   
_I wonder how long I was actually happy with Derek for_ Hillary wondered. _I wonder when I finally realized that I’d made a mistake in dating him and then... marrying him. I wonder why I even married him in the first place?_  
“Derek, we have to face reality. It’s not working out between us,” Hillary said, sighing as she put the picture back on the nightstand. “Not for either of us. I’m married to a man who I don’t know at all. And you’re married to a woman who doesn’t remember you...or anything really.”  
“That doesn’t matter!” Derek argued. “We’re creating new memories together! Building a brand new marriage together. Starting over!” He was waving his hands and arms for emphasis.   
“No we’re not,” Hillary sadly shook her head. “And I’m sorry, Derek, but... I can’t do this anymore.”   
“Yes you can, sweetheart,” Derek said, gently rubbing Hillary’s back, switching into “concerned husband” mode. “I think you’ve just been pushing yourself too hard lately. Maybe you just need to relax. Go for a girl’s spa weekend away with Chelsea and Whitney, maybe? That might be fun?”  
“I don’t need a spa weekend!” Hillary snapped. “I need to be _myself!_ ” She rose to her feet, her frustration with Derek bubbling up to the surface. “Derek, I’m not the woman you _think_ you married. I don’t know who the hell I’ve been for the past five years, but it hasn’t been _me_. I like color and patterns! I don’t need everything to be perfect all of the time. I like...” Hillary trailed off, flailing her arms around. “ _I like pasta!_ And pizza! All this time, I wasn’t hungry for success...I was just _hungry_ , period!”   
“Sweetheart,” Derek looked totally confused and taken aback but also slightly amused too. “If it means so much to you, we can order a pizza one night a week. Or Lucinda can make one. And the next time she goes grocery shopping I’ll get her to pick up some pasta—”  
“Oh for God’s Sake, Derek, it’s not about the pizza! Or the pasta!” Hillary exclaimed in frustration. “You’re not getting it, Derek. For the past few weeks, I’ve been putting on an act. And I can’t do it anymore. I’m done. I’m tired of pretending. I don’t feel relaxed _at all_. And to be completely honest with you...I think I’d prefer to live in a house.”   
“A _house?_ ” Derek asked, looking absolutely horrified and aghast as if she had just admitted to eating babies or something else crazy.   
“This apartment and building is beautiful, Derek,” Hillary corrected, feeling bad for insulting his creation and his life's work. “It’s fantastic and stunning and I really admire it, and your company as a whole. But it’s...just not me. I’m not suited for this kind of lifestyle.”  
“I’m...shocked, Hillary,” Derek looked truly taken aback and gobsmacked. “I had no idea that you felt this way.”   
“But the worst thing of all is that...you don’t love me,” Hillary said, meeting Derek’s eye. “Not _me_ me anyways. You don't know or love the real Hillary.”   
“But I do love you!” Derek insisted, seeming like he regained his confidence and arrogance. “You know I do, Hills. I think you’re smart, and talented, and beautiful...”  
“You don’t think _I’m_ beautiful, Derek.”  
“But I do!” Derek insisted, seeming offended. “Of course I do, Hillary! You're the most beautiful woman in the entire world.”   
“No, you think my teeth veneers are beautiful,” Hillary gently explained, shaking her head. “And my lip injections and my hair dye.”  
Derek was silent as he eyed Hillary up and down suspiciously, looking confused.   
_Shit, I probably told him it was all natural_ Hillary realized.   
“I think...I’m going to move out,” Hillary gently said, getting up from the bed and walking a few steps away from Derek, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry...I just can’t take it anymore.”   
“I guess we did rush things,” Derek quietly said. “Maybe a break from each other _would_ be good for us. After a week or so, you’ll see things differently and we can come up with a plan.”   
“Okay,” Hillary nodded. “Maybe.”  
* * *   
It felt weird to Hillary, packing up her bedroom.   
_This isn’t my life_ Hillary thought as she folded a pair of black yoga pants and placed them inside of a Louis Vuitton duffle bag that she had found in her closet. _This is another woman’s life. I woman I don’t even recognize anymore._  
She was only taking the absolute minimum that she would need for the next couple of days right now—a few outfits, underwear, toiletries and a few pairs of shoes—just the essentials. She would come back for everything else later. She didn’t feel like she had the right to all of the designer suits, nor did she really want them to be honest.   
As she was finishing up and placing the last pair of jeans into the bag, she sensed a presence in the room. She looked up and saw Derek awkwardly standing in the doorway of the bedroom.   
“There’s a crisis at the office. I have to go,” he said stiffly. “Will you be okay?”  
Hillary nodded, “I’ll be fine. I ordered a town car to take me to my friend Betsy’s apartment. She said I can stay in her guest room for a few weeks. She’s leaving work early today.” She zipped the duffle bag closed, sighing at the finality that the sound of the zipper closing signified.   
“Don’t forget Socks,” Derek awkwardly said, putting Socks’ cat carrier in front of Hillary. “You can have him. He’s your cat.”   
Hillary nodded, “Thank you. And Derek...thank you for everything you’ve done the past few weeks. Thanks for...having me. I know this has been difficult for you, too.”   
“I care for you deeply, Hillary. You have to know that.”   
Hillary could see the genuine pain and hurt in Derek’s face and she felt slightly guilty.   
_But you can’t stay with people out of guilt_ she affirmed to herself. _Or because they know how to drive a speedboat or will take you on luxurious European vacations._  
She stood up and rubbed a kink out of her back that had formed as she surveyed the gigantic, spotless, perfect, bedroom. The beautiful bed with its soft and luxurious sheets. The enormous television. The massive walk-in closet/dressing room for all of that designer clothing. Hillary was sure that she would never live in such a beautiful and lavish place ever again in her life.   
But she was confident that she was making the right decision by leaving Derek.   
Derek hesitated before he walked over and gave Hillary an awkward goodbye hug. To Hillary, it felt like they were obeying instructions from the marriage manual, as if they were instructed to have a parting embrace upon separation.   
“Goodbye, Derek,” Hillary said, inhaling his expensive cologne one last time as she rested her head politely in the crook of his shoulder. “I’ll see you around I guess.”   
She couldn’t believe it but she felt like she was about to cry. Not because she was saying goodbye to Derek...but because it was over.   
_My whole, amazing, “perfect” dream life_ Hillary thought. _It’s over. Just like that._  
Finally, Derek let go and pulled away from Hillary. “Goodbye, Hillary. Good luck with everything.”   
She watched him stride out of the room, and a moment later Hillary heard the elevator ding and the elevator doors close. Just like that, Hillary knew he was gone. Out of her life. For good.   
* * *   
An hour later, Hillary had _actually_ finished packing. After gathering together all of Socks’ things and his food, and coaxing him into his cat carrier, she hadn’t been able to resist packing another suitcase full of La Perla underwear, makeup, expensive perfumes, and luxurious bath and body products. And she had packed a third suitcase full of a few of her favorite pantsuits after all.   
_What else am I going to do with them?_ She had realized. Derek had no use for them.   
And she had decided to keep her Prada handbag, for old times’ sake.   
Saying goodbye to Lucinda had been more difficult than Hillary thought it would be. Hillary had given her a huge goodbye hug and thanked Lucinda for everything she had done for her, while Lucinda muttered something in Russian and gently stroked Hillary’s hair. Hillary could tell that Lucinda somewhat understood why Hillary was leaving.   
And now Hillary was alone in the apartment as Lucinda had gone home for the day. She brought her luggage and Socks’ cat carrier into the living room before checking her watch. She still had a few minutes to kill until her car was due to arrive.   
_It feels like I’m checking out of a posh, five-star hotel_ Hillary thought, chuckling to herself. _It’s been great and an amazing place to live but it never felt like...home._  
Even so, Hillary couldn’t help the massive pang of hurt in her chest that she felt as she stepped out onto the massive terrace to take in the beautiful view of New York City and Central Park one last time.   
After taking in the view and silently reflecting on everything that had happened the past few weeks for several minutes, sighing heavily, she turned around and went back inside the apartment.   
_I guess I didn’t get a “perfect” life handed to me on a plate, after all_ she thought.   
The phone started ringing just as Hillary was locking the screen doors that led to the terrace behind her.   
She walked across the living room and answered, figuring it was the doorman to let her know that her car had arrived. “Hi! Is it possible for you to come up and help me with my suitcases?”   
_God only knows what Betsy will say when she sees all of this_ Hillary realized, staring at the pile of luggage in the middle of the living room, chuckling to herself. She had told Betsy she was only bringing a small bag of necessities.   
A few seconds later she could hear the elevator coming up to the penthouse floor and she waited for the ding that would signify its arrival.   
“Hi!” She greeted as the doors started opening. “I’m sorry, I’ve got quite a bit of—”  
She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and her heart dropped in her chest.   
It wasn’t the doorman standing in front of her.  
It was Bill.  
He was dressed casually in jeans and a white T-shirt and his grey hair was sticking up unevenly. He was the complete opposite of Derek’s perfectly groomed, movie-star looks.   
“Hey,” Hillary managed to get out, her throat feeling tight. "You're not the doorman."  
"No, I'm not," Bill answered, chuckling.   
“What are you doing here?”   
Bill's face was unmoving; his blue eyes as deep and intense as ever.  
Hillary was suddenly reminded of the first time she had seen him again since waking up in the hospital after the accident, in front of the apartment building, when he kept studying her in confusion as if he didn’t believe that she didn’t really remember their affair.   
Finally, she could understand why Bill looked so desperate and heartbroken whenever she insisted to him that Derek was “perfect” and that they were happily married.   
_I can now understand...a lot of things_ Hillary realized.   
“I tried calling you at work,” Bill explained. “But they said you didn’t work there anymore.”  
“Yeah,” Hillary nodded. “A lot of stuff has happened.”   
She could feel her heart racing and her stomach was pulsing with nervousness. She didn’t want to meet Bill’s eyes. She didn’t know why he was there. She took a step back, staring at the ground, wringing her hands nervously together, holding her breath in nervous anticipation.   
“I need to say something to you, Hillary,” Bill said, taking a deep breath. Hillary’s entire body tightened in anticipation. “I’d like to...apologize, Hillary. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. It wasn’t fair.”   
Hillary finally met Bill’s eye. That hadn’t been what she was expecting at all.   
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Bill continued. “I realized how difficult this whole thing must be for you. It’s an impossible situation to be in, really. I haven’t helped matters at all. And I’m sorry. You’re right. You are right, Hillary.” He paused. “I’m not your lover anymore. I’m your ex-husband. You’re with somebody else now.”   
Hillary softened, feeling a lump in her throat.   
_He sounds so matter-of-fact_ Hillary thought.   
“Bill, I didn’t mean...”   
“I know, Hillary. It’s okay,” Bill gently said, lifting his hand to stop Hillary from going on. “I know what you meant. This has been hard for you. I realize that now.” He took a step closer to her, his gaze softening. “I don’t want you to beat yourself up, Hill. You’re trying your best. That’s all you really can do. And you’re doing a great job.”   
“Yeah,” Hillary managed to get out, her throat tight with unshed tears. She nodded. “I’m trying.”   
As if he realized she was about to cry, Bill took a step away from Hillary, as if to give her some space.   
“How did it go at work with the deal?” he asked.  
Hillary shrugged, “They fired me. But it’s for the best. I got a new job as the head of the new Family Law department at Biden, Pelosi, and Associates.”  
“Good,” Bill said, nodding. “I’m really proud of you, Hillary.”   
“Thanks.”   
“I got a new job myself. I’m giving Derek my two weeks’ notice tomorrow,” Bill informed her.   
“Oh, wow,” Hillary sucked in her breath.   
_And he doesn’t even know yet_ Hillary realized, about the fact that she left Derek.   
“It’s...it’s in London, Hillary.”   
“London? As in London, England?”   
Bill nodded.   
“Wow,” Hillary said, shocked. “Well, good luck.”   
Bill nodded, “Thanks. I need a change of scenery after all that’s happened. It’s a six month contract. If it goes well it’ll be extended another six months. So we’ll see how it goes.”   
Hillary nodded and took a deep breath, readying herself to break the news about leaving Derek.  
“I’m leaving Derek,” she blurted out, immediately feeling relieved at saying it out loud, like a heavy weight had just been lifted off her shoulders. “I’m leaving right now. I’m going to stay with Betsy for a while until I can find a place of my own. My bags are packed, the car is on its way...”   
She didn’t mean to see what Bill’s reaction would be but she couldn’t help looking for it. And she saw it. The glimmer of hope that crossed his face until it immediately disappeared once he realized his new circumstances.   
“Good. I’m...glad,” he carefully said in a measured tone of voice. “You probably still need some time to think everything over. Everything is all still pretty new for you.”   
All Hillary could do was nod. “Bill...”   
“Don’t,” Bill stopped her, sadly shaking his head but somehow managing to smile ironically. “We just missed our time, Hillary. That’s all it is.”   
“It isn’t fair though.” Hillary teared up.   
Bill nodded. “You’re right. It’s not.”   
The phone started ringing again and both Bill and Hillary realized it must be the doorman calling to say that her car had arrived. Hillary could see the bleak expression in Bill’s eyes but he still managed to smile at her. “Come on, Hill. I’ll help you with your luggage.”   
***  
A few minutes later, when the bags and Socks’ cat carrier were all packed away into the town car, and Hillary had given the driver Betsy’s address, Hillary stood outside the car, in front of Bill, her chest tight, feeling unsure of how to say goodbye.   
“So...” she started.   
“So,” Bill said, reaching over and squeezing Hillary’s hand reassuringly. “Take care of yourself, Hillary. Good luck with the new job.”  
“Same...” Hillary swallowed down the lump in her throat that had formed. “You too, Bill. Good luck in London.”   
Hillary enveloped Bill into a tight embrace that neither of them wanted to leave. A few moments later, Hillary reluctantly let Bill unwrap his strong arms from around her shoulders and she left the comforting hug. With slightly shaking legs, Hillary got into the waiting car and grabbed the door to pull it shut. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to close it yet. She didn’t want to hear that final clunk of the door closing, which would mean everything really was over for good between her and Bill.   
“Bill...” She looked up to where he was still standing outside the car. “We were good together, right?”   
“We were good,” Bill quietly said. He had said it so quietly that Hillary barely heard him. His face was full of a mixture of sadness, nostalgia, and love as he nodded. “We were really, really, really, good together, Hillary.”   
By now, the tears were freely spilling down Hillary’s cheeks and her stomach and heart were filled with actual physical pain. She was _so_ close to just jumping out of the car, flinging herself into Bill’s arms again, telling him she had changed her mind, that she would go to London with him...  
 _But I can’t_ she sadly realized. _I can’t just run straight from one husband who I don’t remember into the arms of my ex-husband who cheated on me in the past._  
“Bill...I’m sorry. I have to go. I have to go.” She quickly turned away from him so that she didn’t have to look at him anymore, to make having to say goodbye easier. She frantically wiped her tears away and pulled the car door shut. She waited until the car finally started driving away and she didn't dare turn around to look at a left behind Bill. For the very first time in thirty years, Hillary was going to be on her own. She wasn’t Hillary Rodham Clinton or Hillary Rodham Johnson. She was just going to be Hillary Rodham. 

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go to wrap everything up. I will try to post it as soon as possible. Will Hillary decide to stay single or will her and Bill find their way back to each other after all? Stay tuned...


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating...life got in the way I guess. But anyways, here it is, the final chapter. Hope you enjoy!

_Six Months Later_

Six months had passed since Hillary had left Derek and Bill had left for his job in London, and it was now just before Christmas. Chelsea was home from college on winter break. Hillary had taken her out for a nice Italian dinner to celebrate the good grades that she had gotten that semester and they were planning on doing some last minute Christmas shopping after dinner.   
“That was delicious, mom. I’m so full,” Chelsea said, laughing, while taking a sip of her water.   
“Oh God, I know,” Hillary said, laughing as she finished up the last bit of her shrimp linguine. She and Chelsea had also split a Margherita pizza. Since Hillary had left Derek, she had started eating whatever she wanted again, and however much she wanted. Every day for breakfast, she now had scrambled eggs with hot sauce, and three or four pieces of toast slathered in butter. Even though her pants were getting tighter, and she didn’t fit into the smallest of her clothes anymore, she didn’t care. She was happy and healthy and that was all she cared about.   
“So, how’s the new house?” Chelsea asked her mom. Chelsea had only seen it quickly when she had dropped off her bags earlier.   
“Oh, it’s amazing! I love it!” Hillary gushed, taking a sip of her wine.   
After crashing in Betsy’s guest room for a few weeks after leaving Derek, Hillary had found a Brownstone in Manhattan that she had absolutely fallen in love with. It wasn’t so “new” anymore since she had been living there for a few months now but she was finally all unpacked and settled in. And the best part was that it was within walking distance of her new job.   
“That’s great, mom!” Chelsea said as Hillary ordered one more glass of wine.   
“Yeah, it’s been an adjustment being on my own but it’s been great,” Hillary honestly said.   
“And, no updates on the memory loss front?” Chelsea asked, frowning slightly.   
Hillary shrugged, “My memory never recovered at all. It is what it is.”   
Even though she was disappointed, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she never recovered any of her memories in the past six months. The past five years were still like a big black hole in her mind, but instead she had been focusing on creating new memories with her friends, her mom, and with Chelsea. She knew there was no point dwelling on the past or brooding. It was like Betsy always reminded her; you have to keep looking forward. She was getting better at that every day. It was like what had happened six months before was in another part of her brain, a part of her brain that she had completely blocked off and pretended never existed in the first place. She only looked forward to the future now.   
Chelsea nodded. “And have you spoken to Derek at all lately?”  
“Not really,” Hillary answered honestly, chuckling and taking a sip of her fresh glass of wine that the server had just brought over. “He still thinks we’re on a trial separation even though my lawyer has contacted his lawyer about a divorce and I’ve had the papers drawn up. Poor guy.”   
She shrugged again and took another sip of her wine. A week after she had moved out, she had gotten a typed-out document sent to Betsy’s apartment in the mail, from Derek, titled: _Hillary and Derek: Separation Manual_. He had suggested that they meet once a month to discuss things and work on fixing their marriage but so far, Hillary hadn’t contacted him to arrange a single meeting in the past six months. She just didn’t feel like dealing with Derek at the moment.   
Nor had she been able to bring herself to read the section titled: _Separation Sex_. She didn't even want to know what that would entail...  
“Well...dad’s back in town,” Chelsea hesitantly said, waiting to see what her mother’s reaction would be.   
“Oh...” Hillary momentarily froze at the thought of Bill who she had tried not to think about every single day for the past six months. “He’s here for the holidays?”   
“For good, I think, actually,” Chelsea replied. “He decided not to renew his contract for another six months even though they offered. I think he missed New York too much. He’s going to start looking for a new job after the holidays are over.”   
“Well...that’s nice for him,” Hillary awkwardly said. She managed to smile for Chelsea’s sake though.   
She just wanted to push Bill out of her mind like she had been doing for the past few months. Things were just better that way.  
She checked her watch and decided to change the subject. “Should we pay the bill and get going? We still have shopping to do after all.”   
“Sure, mom. Sounds good,” Chelsea enthusiastically replied. 

After Hillary had finished her wine and paid their bill, they walked a couple of blocks to the nearest Bloomingdale’s. They decided they would split up to do their shopping and meet up with each other again in an hour or so.   
Hillary had done most of her Christmas shopping already but she still needed to buy presents for Betsy, Dana, and Michelle. Not only did she want to give them extra special presents that year just because it was Christmas, but she also wanted to treat them for all the hard work they had been putting in at Biden, Pelosi, and Associates ever since they all left Rose and Associates in the summer, and started up a Family Law department at Biden, Pelosi, and Associates. The Family Law department was thriving under Hillary’s wonderful leadership, so much so that Hillary felt like pinching herself sometimes to remind herself that it was all real. But she knew that the department’s great success wouldn’t be possible without the hard work that her team, which included her friends, had been putting in over the past several months. So she decided that everyone in the team deserved a special present that Christmas.   
She first got a few onesies and other baby things for Michelle’s baby girl who had been born a few weeks ago. Hillary was already obsessed with spoiling her new "niece".   
Next, she wandered over to the fragrance department and got a perfume gift set of Dana’s favorite perfume.   
After putting it into her shopping basket, she started walking over to the women’s accessories department. As she was walking, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror and paused in front of it, surveying herself. She had gotten her hair cut into a short, sensible, and professional chin length style and even though she still dyed it, she had dyed it a darker shade of blonde than she had had before. Underneath her black winter coat she was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a comfy and cozy grey cardigan, and her feet were comfortable in a pair of black leather ankle winter boots that only had the slightest hint of a heel. She only wore heels to work now, and even then, they were a lot less tall than the stilettos she had been wearing months ago. Her face was currently bare of any makeup except for some red lipstick, and her left hand was bare of a wedding ring. She still had her teeth veneers but her lip injections were starting to wear off and her lips were finally starting to look normal again.   
_I like what I see_ she thought to herself, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. _I love my life right now. Maybe I don’t have a dream life anymore. Maybe I’m not the wife of a multimillionaire real-estate developer, living in an amazing Penthouse, overlooking New York City. But my life is even BETTER right now_ Hillary happily thought to herself as she continued walking over to the women’s accessories department.   
As she passed the women’s shoes, she was suddenly reminded of Whitney and she couldn’t help but silently chuckle to herself at the memories of her former “best friend.” When Whitney had found out that Hillary had left Derek, she had promptly announced that she wouldn’t take sides, and that Hillary was her closest friend. She had promised Hillary that she was going to be Hillary’s rock through the separation and divorce, her absolute rock.   
She had had lunch with Hillary _once_ in the past six months. But it was no major loss for Hillary, really. Things were better without Whitney in her life, in fact. She had Betsy, Michelle, and Dana. Her _true_ friends.   
She was still laughing at her memories of Whitney as she walked around the women’s accessories department and picked out a cute light pink patent leather purse for Betsy and a gorgeous pair of purple leather gloves for Michelle. Next, she took the escalator upstairs to the clothing department, in order to buy a few more presents for Chelsea. But they had changed the layout of that floor since the last time Hillary had been shopping there and inadvertently she had wandered into the menswear section. She noticed Chelsea was there, examining a display of ties, probably looking for a gift for Bill, Hillary guessed.   
“Oh, hello again!”   
Hillary jumped slightly at the saleswoman who seemed to recognize her. The woman was folding and organizing a display of men’s sweaters.   
“Oh...hello,” Hillary said, awkwardly. “Do I know you from somewhere?”   
“Oh, no,” the woman chuckled. “I just remember you from last Christmas.”  
“Last Christmas?”   
The woman nodded. “You were here, Christmas shopping. Buying a gift for your...fellow.” She glanced at Hillary’s left hand as if she was checking for a ring. “We had a nice conversation while I was gift-wrapping it. I’ve always remembered it. And you.”   
Hillary stared at the woman, trying to imagine it.   
_Me. Here. Christmas shopping for Derek’s Christmas present_ she thought. _The old Hillary, probably in a boring black pantsuit, probably in a rush. Probably frowning and stressed out._  
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember it,” Hillary admitted. “I have a terrible memory actually.” She chuckled to herself. “What did I say?”   
“Don’t worry about it,” the woman laughed heartily. “Why should you remember? I only remembered it, because you were so...” the woman paused, in the middle of folding sweaters. “This is going to sound silly but you just seemed so... _in love_.”   
“Oh,” Hillary remarked, taken aback. “Right.” She nodded.   
She decided to brush it off.   
_That doesn’t sound like I was talking about Derek but no big deal. It’s just a coincidence_ she thought to herself, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.   
But as she was standing there, trying to will herself to walk away as a stranger told her what she was doing last Christmas, all kinds of feelings and emotions started bubbling up inside of her. She wanted to keep the past in the past where it belonged but she couldn’t help wanting to ask the woman more questions about the encounter.   
“I know this is a strange question probably but...did I say what his name was by any chance?”   
“No,” the woman answered, giving Hillary a curious look. “You just said that you felt alive when you were with him. That he was the only person who could make you feel that way. You were literally bubbling over with happiness when you talked about him. I’d never seen someone so happy before.” She stopped folding sweaters and looked at Hillary with genuine curiosity. “You seriously _don’t_ remember?”  
“No,” Hillary answered, sadly shaking her head.   
She felt her throat getting tight, as a lump was forming inside of it.   
_It was Bill_ she realized. _I was talking about Bill. Bill, who I’ve tried not to think about every single day for the past six months._  
She cleared her throat, “What did I buy him?”  
“It was a shirt,” the woman answered. She turned towards a display of shirts and grabbed a navy blue one. “It was this one, I think.” She handed the shirt to Hillary and turned to look at another customer who needed help.   
Hillary held the shirt in her hands and looked at it. She tried to picture Bill wearing it; tried to picture herself shopping for it and picking it out for him. Tried to imagine how happy she must have been with Bill.   
She didn’t know why, maybe it was the few glasses of wine she had had at dinner, or maybe it was just the end of a long day but she couldn’t seem to force herself to put the shirt back. She didn’t want to let go of it.   
“Miss? I’ll take it. The shirt,” Hillary said as soon as the saleswoman was finished with the other customer. “Don’t bother gift-wrapping it.”  
* * *  
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She had abruptly left a very confused Chelsea at Bloomingdale’s after giving her money for a taxi, and she had walked out of Bloomingdale’s in a daze. As she hailed a taxi for herself, with no idea where she wanted to go, she was holding the blue shirt against her cheek, as if it was a comfort blanket. Her head was buzzing and she couldn’t think straight.   
A taxi pulled up to the curb and on autopilot, Hillary got inside it.   
“Where to?” The driver asked but Hillary barely heard him. She couldn’t stop thinking about Bill.   
“Brooklyn, please,” she managed to answer once she semi-gathered her thoughts.   
There was only one place Hillary wanted to go. And that was to be with Bill.   
She closed her eyes and tried to focus as the buzzing in her brain got louder. She tried to focus as the faintest and blurriest picture started forming in her mind and then suddenly...like a flash of lightning; a clearer picture had formed in her mind. It was a memory.  
A memory of Bill. Of them. Together. It was definitely not from when they were still married Hillary realized. She kept her eyes closed and just took in the memory.   
_The two of us together. At the beach. The smell of the ocean in the air, the sand between our toes, his chin slightly scratchy, a cozy and warm gray blanket..._  
That was it. A fleeting moment, nothing else.   
_But I have it_ Hillary realized. _I have something._  
When she opened her eyes, she didn’t dare look out the window of the cab as it traveled through the busy New York City streets, she didn’t want to risk losing the small remnants of the memory that she had.   
_I have to keep the memory intact. I have to tell Bill that I remember something_ Hillary thought.   
As they eventually pulled up in front of Bill’s apartment building, Hillary quickly paid the driver by giving him a wad of cash but as she got out of the cab, she realized she probably should have called him first. She didn’t even know if he was still living there after returning home from London or if he had gotten a new place or was staying in a hotel. She had forgotten to ask Chelsea.  
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed his home number.   
_If he’s not here I’ll go wherever he is_ she decided.   
“Hello?” He sleepily answered after a few rings.   
“Hi, Bill. It’s me...Hillary.”   
“Hillary?”   
“Did I wake you? I’m sorry. But, I’m here. I’m outside...I remembered something.”   
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right down.” There was a beat for a moment and then the phone went dead.   
Hillary anxiously waited for Bill in the lobby of his apartment building and then suddenly a few minutes later...the elevator doors opened and he stepped off, in a pair of navy blue sweatpants, a white T-shirt and some old sneakers on his feet.   
“You cut your hair,” he remarked, staring at Hillary in a sleepy daze, as if he couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of him, in the lobby of his apartment building.   
“I remembered something!” Hillary blurted out, ignoring his comment about her hair. “I have a memory of us that I didn’t have before! It’s faint but it’s there. Did we go to the beach together, at least once? We must have because you showed me that picture of us together when I visited your apartment...”   
“Hillary...” Bill ran his hands through his hair. “What are you talking about? Why are you carrying a shirt? Wait...is that my shirt?” He stared at Hillary in confusion, in a sleepy haze.   
“I know we must have gone to the beach together during our affair! I remember!” Hillary knew she was rambling incoherently but she didn’t care. “I remember the salty air, and the smell of the ocean, and your chin was scratchy like you hadn’t shaved in a few days...Come on, Bill. You don’t remember?”   
Hillary stared at Bill expectantly. His face was screwed up in concentration; he was frowning, as if he was utterly mystified.   
“I’m sorry, Hill. I don’t remember,” he finally said.   
“Wait, _you_ don’t remember?” Hillary stared at him in absolute livid disbelief. “ _You_ seriously don’t remember? Come on, Bill! Think about it. Think back! It was cold, but we were warm because we had a blanket, and you hadn’t shaved...I think you were wearing a blue sweater...”  
Suddenly his face lit up and changed. “Oh, wow. The time we went to the Jersey Shore for the day. It was the off season. Could it be that day? Is that what you’re remembering, Hilly?”   
“I don’t know!” Hillary exclaimed, helplessly. “Maybe?”   
“We went to the Jersey Shore for the day,” Bill repeated, nodding. “To the beach and the boardwalk. It was March but it was still freezing outside so we bought a blanket and sweaters from some gift shop that was open along the boardwalk.”   
Hillary nodded, “Yes! That sounds familiar!”   
There was a long pause as Bill nodded and rubbed his chin, looking perplexed. “So that’s all you remember? One small memory of us at the beach together?”  
Hillary sighed, feeling deflated and stupid. When he put it that way, it made her feel outright foolish for rushing from Manhattan all the way to Brooklyn. Reality suddenly crashed down on her. Her happy bubble popped.   
_He’s not interested anymore_ Hillary realized. _He’s moved on. He probably has a girlfriend by now. He probably met someone while he was in London._  
“Yes,” She cleared her throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s all. That’s the memory. I just thought I’d let you know that I’d remembered something. Just if you were interested in knowing. So...I guess I’ll go now. I’ll let you go back to bed. It was nice to see you again, Bill. I'll see you around, I guess. Bye.”   
She awkwardly picked up her shopping bags and turned around to leave, to go back out into the street and find a taxi. Her cheeks were burning. She looked outside and noticed that it was beginning to snow.   
_This is so embarrassing_ she thought to herself. _I need to get out of here. I don’t know what I was even thinking. I'm so stupid—_  
“Well, is it enough?”   
Bill’s voice behind her surprised her and took her out of her thoughts. She turned around in shock. Bill was walking towards her, his face filled with hope and optimism.   
And at that site, all of a sudden all of Hillary’s pretenses and hesitation left her body. It was as if the past six months of being apart had never even happened.   
_It’s just us_ Hillary realized. _It’s just us again right now._  
“I...I don’t know,” Hillary stammered. “Is it?”  
“It’s up to you, Hill,” Bill shrugged. “You were the one who said you needed a memory. A thread that would connect us to...well, us.” He took another step closer to her. “And now, you have something. Right?”  
“It’s the thinnest, most fragile thread in the world,” Hillary took a deep breath. “But...it’s there.”   
“Well, then. Hold onto it, Hillary,” His deep blue eyes never leaving hers, Bill was standing right in front of Hillary now. “Hold on to it, Hill. Don’t let it go.” He tightly wrapped his big strong arms around Hillary in a tight and reassuring hug.   
“I won’t,” Hillary whispered, near tears, as she wrapped her arms around Bill in return.   
_I don’t want to ever let him go again_ she thought. _Not out of my arms. Or out of my head._  
Bill was gently running his hands up and down Hillary’s back and she decided to relish in the amazing feeling for a few moments. Hugging Bill like that felt like coming...home.   
_Bill was home all along_ Hillary suddenly realized. She smiled to herself and happily nestled her head in the crook of Bill’s arm.   
“Hey, Bill?” Hillary murmured into Bill’s shoulder.   
“Yes, sweetheart?” Bill pulled away from the hug and lifted Hillary’s chin up towards him. He gently placed his hands on her cheeks.   
“Guess what? I suddenly remembered something else.” Hillary smiled at Bill.   
“And what is it?” Bill grinned at Hillary, his face lit up in absolute happiness and delight. “What did you remember?”   
“I remember going upstairs to your loft...taking all the phones off the hook...I called in sick to work the next day...and I had the best sex of my entire life for twenty-four hours straight,” Hillary answered, keeping a straight face. “I even remember the exact date this happened.”  
“Really?” Bill was still smiling, but he looked slightly confused. “When was this?”   
“Thursday December 21st, 2000. At around...” Hillary checked her watch. “Eight forty-six p.m.”   
“ _Aaahhhh_ ,” Bill’s face lit up in understanding as he caught on. “Of course. Yes, I remember now. That was a pretty fun time, wasn’t it?” He started gently kissing Hillary’s neck and she shivered in anticipation. “Only I think it was for forty-eight hours straight. Not twenty-four.” He winked at her.   
“Oh my gosh, you’re completely right, Bill,” she winked at him. “How could I have forgotten that?”   
Bill chuckled at her. “Come on, Hilly.” He pressed the button for the elevator.   
“By the way,” Hillary said a few moments later as the elevator doors opened in front of them. “I technically haven’t had good sex since the last time I remember us having sex five years ago. Just so you know.”   
Bill chuckled and dragged Hillary onto the elevator. He passionately started kissing Hillary as the elevator doors closed. She could feel jolts of electricity running through her body. Her body remembered things about Bill even if her brain didn’t.   
“Challenge accepted,” Bill said as he broke away from the kiss and intensely pushed Hillary up against the wall of the elevator. “I’m going to knock your socks off, babe. Don’t worry about that.”   
Hillary grinned as Bill took her face in his hands, and surveyed her for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening.   
Hillary could feel her body stirring with desire and want.   
The elevator arrived on Bill’s floor and he dragged her down the hallway in the direction of his loft.   
By the time they reached Bill’s door, Hillary couldn’t hold out anymore. Before they could enter Bill’s apartment, Hillary pulled his face down towards hers for another passionate kiss.   
_And this one I’ll always remember. This one I’ll keep with me forever._

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the story...I couldn't NOT give Billary a happy ending, haha. Thanks for reading! Hopefully you'll be seeing more of me. I have other ideas for Billary stuff, some I've had for years now. We'll just have to see if I can get around to actually writing them some day haha. Also open to ideas/prompts/suggestions for stories. You can reach out to me here or I'm serena-waldorf on Tumblr since most of you are probably on there :)


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